


Bitchmas 2018

by lilinas



Series: Sebastian's Bitch [6]
Category: Glee
Genre: All that Christmasy stuff!, BDSM, Chastity Device, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Cages, Forced Orgasm, M/M, Master/Slave, Orgasm Delay/Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2019-09-02 20:15:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 27,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16793986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilinas/pseuds/lilinas
Summary: Sebastian gives Kurt an Advent Calendar to help him count down the days until Christmas in the best kinky style.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> It's Bitchmas!
> 
> I didn't do a Bitchmas last year because I didn't feel up to it and I'm sad that I couldn't work it out so I decided to go ahead and tackle it this year. I'm not writing to any prompts this time, but I will post a little fic every day of December as Kurt makes his way through his Advent calendar. I'm excited to immerse myself in some nice, PWP kink for a while! After this prologue, the chapter titles will be the charms that Kurt finds in his calendar. 
> 
> I had wanted to finish Sure of You before I did this Advent, to avoid confusion, but that didn't happen! This is an entirely separate fic from that one. I think we'll just assume it takes place during one of their two Christmases before the events of Sure of You. It's just a bit of Christmas kink with no relevance to anything. :)
> 
> Also, if you're a Klaine fan, I am totally doing the EF Klaine Advent this year as well. That will start tomorrow. 
> 
> Happy Holidays!!

“It’s an Advent Calendar.”

Kurt snorted. “I can see that. I suppose there’s no use hoping any of those little doors are hiding chocolate.”

“Where would the fun be in that?” Sebastian asked.

“Where indeed.”

Sebastian laughed. He might as well, Kurt thought. He wasn't the one who would be on the receiving end of whatever was behind those prettily carved doors.

“Besides,” Sebastian went on, running his hands over Kurt’s bare abdomen, “think how fattening that would be. Your girlish figure is one of my favorite things about you.” One of his hands wandered up to tease Kurt’s nipple, the other down, to play with his balls. “No, those little doors hide little charms.”

“Charms?” Kurt breathed. His dick drooled over Sebastian's fingers. It had been weeks since Sebastian had let him out of his cage.

“Charms. That’s not so bad is it?”

“Why do I suspect a catch?”

“Hmmm,” Sebastian rumbled against Kurt’s neck, then nibbled at his earlobe. “There’s always a catch, bitch. And this one’s really good. You might even like it.”

“Go on,” Kurt said. He wasn’t sure if he was talking about Sebastian’s words or his fondling hands.

“Each charm represents a way I’m going to torture you. And give you a chance to come.”

Kurt spun around to face Sebastian. “But I don’t know . . .” He stopped himself. Some things were too dangerous to say out loud.

Too late. “You don’t know if you want to come twenty-four times in one month,” Sebastian finished for him. “I know. That’s what makes it so much fun.”

“For you.”

“Obviously. Torture, predicaments, bondage, forced orgasms. What’s more Christmasy than that?? And when it’s over you’ll have twenty-four silver charms to remind you of it.”

“And I don’t suppose you’re planning to string those on a bracelet for me.”

Sebastian recoiled in horror. “God forbid I should ever do anything so vanilla.”

“What was I thinking?”

“I can’t decide, though, if I want to turn them into a cock leash or a nipple clamp chain.”

“Life’s full of tough choices.”

Sebastian kissed Kurt hard and came up grinning like a shark. “It’s about to be.”


	2. Cat

“You’re going to torture me with kittens?” Kurt guessed. He rolled the charm between his fingers then set it on the table next to the calendar.

“No. But hard limits aside, you’re going wish I was torturing you with kittens.” Sebastian reached in his pocket and pulled something out with a flourish. “Let the Christmas fun begin!”

Kurt’s breath caught. A tiny key dangled in the air at the end of a gold chain. The cage key. His dick swelled in Pavlovian response, pushing through the spaces between the steel bars.

“Breathe, bitch,” Sebastian ordered. “I told you I was going to give you a chance to come.”

“Without the cage?” Kurt’s voice trembled. It had been weeks since Sebastian had let him out. So many he’d lost count.

“This time.” Sebastian twirled his hand so that the chain slowly wrapped around his fingers, bringing the key up inch by inch. Kurt watched like he was being hypnotized, which he was of course. This was classic Sebastian, setting the tone and leading Kurt down his primrose path to pain and frustration.

Sebastian’s nimble fingers were tailor-made for things like slipping the cage off without giving Kurt’s touch-starved cock the slightest contact. Still, Kurt closed his eyes and moaned as he was finally free to swell without restriction. That first erection always felt monstrous, too long, inhumanely thick. Kurt moaned and put out a hand. “Please . . .”

Sebastian moved so Kurt’s hand found his shoulder. “Easy bitch. This is just the beginning. Open your eyes.”

Sebastian’s face was so close. Those avid eyes, so full of desire – for Kurt – undid Kurt, as always, and sent him off down the slow slide into abject submission.

Sebastian’s face was close but he kept his body away, and his hands held Kurt’s hips firm to make sure he couldn’t thrust his aching cock against anything. His eyes roamed from Kurt’s face, down his body, to the hard and hungry organ.

“Seven weeks of lockup. You must be dying for me to touch it.”

That was an invitation Kurt couldn’t ignore. “Please. God, please Sebastian.”

“I could. I could wrap my hand around it, give you a few strokes. I bet you’d be on the edge in seconds.”

Kurt whined at the thought. In all honesty, he was already on the edge. His cock was so sensitive that just the pressure of erection and the trickle of precome down his shaft had him helplessly aroused. Need shattered his self-control. His ass flexed; his body fought Sebastian’s restraining hands.

“Uh-uh. None of that!” Sebastian said, keeping his iron grip tight on Kurt’s hips. “Relax, bitch. Obviously, I’m not going to touch it. But I am going to let you hump. To your heart’s content.” He picked up the little silver cat charm and dangled it in front of Kurt’s face.

It hit Kurt like a bolt of lightning. Of course. The cat post. Sebastian’s favorite way to “reward” Kurt when he’d been extra perfect was to let him hump the cat post he kept in the hallway just for that purpose. Kurt always told himself that he wasn’t going to give in, but he always ended up on his knees frantically rutting against the damned thing until he got too close to orgasm, or Sebastian got bored and made him stop. The carpet that covered it was rough; if Kurt got too carried away he could give himself a serious rug burn. But carefully paced, he could scratch the unquenchable itch for as long as his body or Sebastian would allow. And now, now for the first time, Sebastian was going to give him the chance to actually come on it.

“You know it’s not going to be that simple, right?” Sebastian – always a mind-reader – said.

“What?” Kurt asked breathlessly.

“Please. You think I don’t know what you’re imagining? And have you forgotten the torture part?”

When Sebastian said _torture_ Kurt’s dick spurted a slug of precome. Sometimes Kurt hated his dick.

“On your knees, bitch. And close your eyes.”

Kurt dropped to the floor. He could see, before he closed his eyes, that Sebastian was already hard. Whatever he had planned was going to be torture indeed.

Spurt. Stupid dick.

“Our post is much too soft. I want that sensitive cock to get every bit of the stimulation it deserves.” Sebastian moved as he spoke, sidestepping Kurt and crossing the room. “Besides, I couldn’t let you come on ours. How would you ever get it clean again?” A door opened, then closed. Sebastian’s steps came back and something dropped with a thump by Kurt’s knees. “Luckily I saw this on the curb the other day. Someone tossed it out. I guess their cat didn’t like it anymore. I think it’s exactly what your gorgeous, desperate cock needs. Open your eyes.”

Kurt’s eyes opened, then widened in horror. What faced him was a cat post alright, but where theirs was covered in carpet, this one was wrapped with rattan, tattered from what must have been years of scratching cat claws. Short, loose ends poked out in all directions. Humping it would be agony even if his cock hadn’t just been released from seven weeks of isolation.

“I can’t,” he whispered before he could stop himself.

“I’m sorry, what?” Sebastian asked.

Kurt stared up at Sebastian with pleading eyes. “What if I just give up? I surrender the chance to come. You can lock me back up.”

Sebastian laughed. “I can do whatever I want. This isn’t a negotiation. You are going to hump that thing for twenty-four minutes –”

“Sebastian . . .”

“– because, twenty-four days, Advent, you get it. Twenty-four minutes or . . . until you come. If you come, you can stop. And quit with the pleading eyes. When has that ever worked with me? Get ready bitch because the timer’s about to start and you do not want to risk the punishment for not obeying.”

Kurt stared at the tattered post and tried to strategize. Any orgasm he might be able to force from his body on that thing would be excruciating. The pace he would need, against the rough surface . . . it wasn’t going to happen. His best chance would be to go as slowly as he could and still technically be moving. It would prolong the agony (twenty-four minutes!) but he’d have more control. He could choose the spot with the fewest ratty ends and hopefully keep the damage to a minimum.

“I bet that cage is looking pretty awesome right now,” Sebastian leered.

Kurt reached out to steady himself against the post.

“Nice try, bitch. Hands behind your back.” Sebastian stepped on the base of the post and positioned his leg to keep it in place. He punched at his phone screen. “Get ready because I’m starting the timer.”

Kurt held his breath and shuffled forward until the head of his cock just touched the rough surface. It spurted more precome, like it couldn't wait to be ravaged.

“Good bitch. Go.”

The first careful slide against the rattan brought tears to Kurt’s eyes. The second drew a groan from his throat. With the third he knew he could never make it, it hurt too much, the shredded wrappings felt like they were tearing into his flesh. They weren’t, he knew enough to know that, but knowing that couldn’t stop the burning agony of harsh friction on flesh that cried out for gentle touch. He couldn’t possibly keep it up. He was going to stop. He had to stop.

He didn’t stop.

He meant to. His head begged his body to fall back, take his punishment, nothing could be worse than this. But his cock – his stupid, insane, traitorous cock – his cock kept moving, punishing itself. Maybe Sebastian was right that any sensation was better than none at all. Maybe it was the fact that Sebastian’s leg was so close Kurt could almost pretend he was humping it instead, something Sebastian had never let him do, a fantasy so humiliating Kurt had only indulged in his darkest moments. Surrounded by people, forced to showcase his desperation like a dog, rutting at his master’s trousers . . .

He cried out with each thrust, and the tears spilled over to run down his face, but somehow, impossibly, a spark of heat kindled in his balls and then his dick left his brain behind. It seemed to know that it if could just endure, the heat would build, and if it could only rut fast enough it would finally be allowed to spill the months’ and months’ of frustrated releases that had been left to die inside it. Kurt knew it wouldn’t feel good. Kurt knew it would only frustrate him more in the end. But his body didn’t care. Instinct and need were too strong. Without his permission his hips sped up, his cries pitched louder with a new undercurrent of needy moans. And the more it hurt, the more his cock seemed to want it, until he was rocking into the post like it was the world’s hottest, wettest ass.

Above him Sebastian barked a triumphant laugh. “I knew you wanted to come. I knew you wanted it to hurt. This is how good bitches come. Good bitches torture themselves because they know that’s all they deserve. Show me what a good bitch you are.” He pressed his leg forward, shoving the post against Kurt’s cock.

Kurt gave strangled cry and came with a pulsing spurt that felt as constricted as his throat. His balls clenched tight and he slowed to a stop, shuddering as semen burned its way down his abraded skin. He hung over the post, gasping for breath, his cheeks wet with tears.

“I’m impressed, bitch. Four minutes. I thought you’d take ten at least. I mean, I knew you were desperate but that rattan is _wicked_. You may be even more of a masochist than I thought. Don’t move.”

Kurt whimpered. “You said . . . I could stop . . . if I came.”

“You have stopped. And you’re going to stay right there until I tell you to move.”

Kurt moaned. Tiny points of rattan poked at his cock and scratched against the oversensitive flesh as it slowly deflated. Every part of Kurt ached, and although he’d barely felt any pleasure in his orgasm, his body trembled with the exhaustion that always accompanied a long-awaited release. He wanted the pain to end; he wanted rest; he desperately longed for the safety of his cage. He raised his wet eyes to Sebastian’s face. “Please,” he begged.

Sebastian grinned that feral snarl that made Kurt’s blood boil. The one that said Kurt was going to serve until Sebastian had no more use for him, no matter how lost in pain and desperation he might be. His dick twitched against the post and he cried out again.

“No fucking way, bitch.” Sebastian said as he undid his fly. “You’re exactly where I want you.”

And when Sebastian’s hard cock slid down his throat, so was Kurt.


	3. Claw

Pleasure was worse than pain. It was crueler. It seduced Kurt’s brain and subverted his will. It pretended to offer him everything he craved, and no matter how determined Kurt was to remember that unencumbered pleasure was fleeting, temporary, always a lie, the moment inevitably came when instinct and desire took control. They breached all of Kurt’s defenses and made him _try_. And of course, that moment of true striving was exactly when Sebastian ripped it all away.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Sebastian purred.

Kurt was kneeling on the bedroom floor. Sebastian sat in front of him, his back propped against the wall, masturbating Kurt with a loose, well-lubed Fleshlight. At first, after the cat tree, Kurt had been afraid of anything touching his abused cock, but the device was warm and wet and Sebastian’s pace was pitched to soothe as well as pleasure. After only a few strokes Kurt was humming on each exhale and fighting to remember that this was only the preamble. The charm he’d pulled from the second door in the calendar was a tiny eagle’s claw, with gleaming talons longer than the toes. Whatever Sebastian was waiting to spring on him was only going to hurt more if Kurt let his guard down now and abandoned himself to the seductive slide up and down his cock.

But god it felt fucking amazing.

“I asked you a question, bitch.”

“Mmmm,” Kurt managed as the sleeve dragged sweetly up his cock. “Mmm-hmmm,” he got out before Sebastian pushed it slowly down again, firing every aching nerve ending from tip to root of Kurt’s substantial length.

“My needy little bitch,” Sebastian crooned. “Who says I can’t be merciful?”

“Me,” Kurt breathed.

“You know me so well.” Sebastian slid the Fleshlight home again then let go of it and shuffled around behind Kurt.

“Nooo,” Kurt pleaded. “More. Please. I’m not ready. Just a little more.”

“I decide when you’re ready,” Sebastian said in his ear.

Trapped in the warm sheath, Kurt’s cock trembled. Except it wasn’t his cock, he realized, the device itself was trembling, vibrating around him with a slow, sensuous rhythm. “Oh, fuck . . .”

“See?” Sebastian said. “Merciful. And now my hands are free to do this . . .” His thumbs, slick with lube, stroked over Kurt’s nipples and Kurt breathed a moan that ended in a huffing, despairing laugh. With his cock locked away so much of the time, Kurt’s nipples were second only to his ass as erogenous zones. Under Sebastian’s expert teasing they pebbled and tightened until they ached as much as his balls did. Kurt was sure he could feel his cock spurt precome into the massaging Fleshlight with each gentle caress.

“God, you’re evil,” Kurt murmured between moans.

Sebastian laughed, his breath teasing Kurt’s ear. “You say that now, but not when I was torturing you last night?”

“This is so much worse.”

“You were just begging me for more. How am I supposed to know what you want when you keep contradicting yourself?”

“You always know.”

“I know you’re still trying to be in control,” Sebastian said. “Give in, bitch. You’re going to eventually. Why fight?” He rolled Kurt’s nipples gently and Kurt wanted to cry because this was so rare for him. Everything was sweet pleasure, head to toe, nothing hurt, there wasn’t any pain at all. But there was going to be. There had to be. There was always pain, eventually.

“Let go,” Sebastian commanded, in a tone that Kurt’s body responded to whether his brain approved or not. He sank back against Sebastian’s body and let the currents of bliss pull him under.

Without his fierce self-control, the pleasure that had been loose and amorphous now began to coalesce toward a point deep in Kurt’s belly. It was the familiar burgeoning of orgasm, and Kurt wanted to fight it but Sebastian’s hands were everywhere, impossible to ignore, and try as he might Kurt couldn’t remember how to fight, or why he would ever want to. Waves of pleasure radiated from that place in his core then built and built until Kurt was panting out tight cries in time with the bliss that wracked his body. He was close, so close, his back arched away from Sebastian as he thrust up, mindlessly trying to fuck the Fleshlight.

When the pain came it was unexpected and excruciating and Kurt cried out loud as his hands reached back to grab onto whatever part of Sebastian he could reach. He was allowed two breaths, just long enough to understand that his nipple was on fire, when the second clamp closed, refreshing the agony. This time Kurt’s wail ended on a sob and he clutched at Sebastian’s shoulders to keep himself from doing something he’d certainly be punished for.

The Fleshlight stopped vibrating.

Kurt hung against Sebastian, gasping, trying in vain to find some way to manage the pain. He remembered the charm, and knew without looking that Sebastian had used the talon clamps. Five delicate, wiry points bit like needles into each of his nipples. Talon clamps didn’t compress, like normal clamps. There would be no relieving numbness if Kurt could just wait long enough. Talon clamps pinched, felt like they were piercing, and the more they were pulled the more they tightened. They were inescapable.

“Here’s how this is going to go,” Sebastian said. He unlatched Kurt’s hands from his shirt and stood up. “Twenty-four minutes in the clamps. Unless you come.”

“How?” Kurt gasped as he fell forward, then again as gravity pulled on the clamps. The Fleshlight still hugged his cock, but without the vibe it wasn’t going to happen.

“Simple. All you have to do is get your ass on the floor. Kneel up a little.”

There was too much pain for Kurt to understand. He could only obey, and watch in hazy dismay as Sebastian clipped the chain between the clamps to one of their many attachment points on the wall.

“When your ass is on the floor, I’ll turn on the vibe. If you lift your ass, I turn it off.” He knelt again so Kurt could look him in the eye. “It’s all up to you, bitch. I know how much you like control.”

Kurt clung to Sebastian’s gaze. His green eyes were full of heat and Kurt wanted to draw strength from Sebastian’s desire, and give his master the obedience he demanded, but the pain was overwhelming. It stole his breath and brought tears to his eyes. “I can’t do it,” he pleaded.

“That’s what you said yesterday and look how that turned out.” Sebastian wiped a tear that had overflowed Kurt’s left eye and trickled down his cheek.

“It was fucking torture,” Kurt gasped.

“Exactly. Clock starts now.”

There was no point in trying to endure. Kurt knew that even through the fog of pain. Sebastian’s games were always rigged to end the way Sebastian wanted them to. He held his breath and pushed his ass toward the floor. The pent-up air escaped his throat in a long, low groan as the clamps tightened until Kurt couldn’t even remember why he was trying to pull his own nipples off. Until he felt the floor against his skin like a miracle and the sheath on his cock started vibrating again, hard this time, full speed.

“Oh god thank you please please please please please . . .” Kurt chanted as his nipples screamed and the drive to orgasm began again, faster, harder. “Please Master oh god fuck please . . .”

The Fleshlight, at least, was merciful. Its mindless drive pushed Kurt efficiently and relentlessly toward release. Kurt pushed harder, shoved his ass into the floor, leaned back, anything to force himself over that edge so the agony could end. When he felt his orgasm loom again he began to cry, still reciting his litany of “Please please fuck please . . .”

“Open your eyes bitch,” Sebastian said.

Kurt obeyed. Sebastian grinned at him and reached for the clamp chain.

“No please please no please don’t . . .”

Of course, Sebastian did. The sight of his fist around the chain sent Kurt finally past the point of no return and as Sebastian yanked Kurt came with a scream.

The next time Kurt opened his eyes Sebastian was lying on the floor, face to face with him, stroking a thumb over one of Kurt’s clamp-free nipples.

“I don’t know about you, bitch, but I am _loving_ this Advent thing.”


	4. Shoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hope this one makes sense. Kurt got all feisty and didn't want to go where I wanted him to go! But I got him there eventually, with a little help from Sebastian.

There were no words for how much Kurt was dreading the December 3rd Advent charm. His work day had been a cluster-fuck, no less than six different people hadn’t followed-through on things they needed to do and four of them had tried to blame their incompetence on him. And the turmoil around him was a depressing mirror of the turmoil within.

Kurt wasn’t an idiot. He knew sub drop when he felt it. But this was different. The always-on nature of his dynamic with Sebastian meant that Kurt’s emotional state ebbed and flowed. Their scenes never “ended,” in the conventional sense, and aftercare – well with no “after” it tended to just be whenever-Kurt-needed-it care. But Kurt rarely carried sub emotions into his outside life. He’d gotten very good at switching between Kurt Hummel, submissive slave to Sebastian and Kurt Hummel, up-and-coming young fashion designer on the cusp of a glorious career. Yes, okay, he was always wearing a cock cage under his creations, but home emotions stayed at home.

So why was he suddenly unable to put this weird fragility aside?

When he walked into the apartment after work he had to force himself to strip. The routine of starting dinner while he waited for Sebastian usually grounded Kurt and helped him slip into his home headspace, but tonight he moved mechanically from one task to the next.

Kurt was supposed to meet Sebastian at the door, help him with his things, but tonight he was so wrapped up in his own head and chopping peppers that he didn’t even hear the key in the lock. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Sebastian cleared his throat pointedly.

“Oh shit! You scared the crap out of me!” Kurt complained.

Not exactly a Sebastian-approved reaction.

Sebastian stared at Kurt over the island that separated the kitchen from the living room. His I’m-so-going-to-punish-you expression slowly morphed into something else. Something Kurt didn’t like any better.“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“Kurt.”

It was a reprimand, but it was also Kurt’s name, which Sebastian almost never said when they were alone. For a wild moment Kurt thought of safewording, except it felt so absurd, and not right at all.

“Tell me.” Sebastian came closer, but kept the island between them.

Kurt opened his mouth but closed it again and shook his head. “I don’t know.”

There was a long moment where they faced each other, and Kurt prayed Sebastian could figure out what he needed, because he had no clue.

Sebastian took a deep breath then said, “Calendar time, bitch.”

Kurt’s heart clenched. “Dinner . . .”

“We’ll get takeout. Calendar. Now.”

It was probably instinct, just an autonomous response, but Kurt felt the grip on his heart loosen the tiniest bit when Sebastian barked the order.

The charm was a shoe. A tiny and very detailed silver sneaker. Kurt stared at it. “I would have expected a pump,” he said in a lame attempt to lighten the mood.

“It’s supposed to be my shoe, not yours.”

Kurt raised his eyes to Sebastian, who met his gaze with a steely determination Kurt couldn’t have summoned up if he tried. “I don’t suppose you’re just going to make me worship your boots until I come?”

“I’m going to give you a choice tonight, bitch. Cage on or off.”

Kurt’s breath caught. “I don’t know if I want to make that decision,” he said.

“I don’t care what you want. I want you to choose.”

“But you –”

“It’ll be equally entertaining for me, whichever you pick. So choose.”

“On,” Kurt said before he could second-guess himself. “God, please, leave it on.”

It was done now. There could be no orgasm. Sebastian grinned. “Bedroom. Kneel on the floor.”

Kurt went. He knelt. For several long minutes, he knelt alone. His cock protested his choice to keep it incarcerated by trying to stage a breakout on the spot.

When Sebastian finally appeared, he’d traded his tennis shoes for an old pair of heavy-soled hiking boots. He stood in front of Kurt and tapped a spot on the floor with his toe. “Sit on your ass, spread your legs, and put your balls right here.”

Kurt shuffled into position. He had to maneuver his balls and lift his cock out of the way to achieve exactly what Sebastian had requested. He stretched his balls to the spot Sebastian indicated, offering them for abuse. When he was finally still, Sebastian rested the toe of one boot on Kurt’s balls, holding them gently in place, and Kurt let go.

“Look at me, bitch.”

Kurt complied.

“How do these feel after the past two days?”

Without thinking, Kurt looked at his balls.

“Uh-uh. Eyes on me.”

It was a sharp angle so Kurt put his hands behind him and leaned back to make eye contact with Sebastian again. “They ache, but not the way they usually do.”

Sebastian’s foot pressed down, just a little bit, just to let Kurt know it was there. “How do you mean?”

“Usually they hurt because they’re denied. Or because you’ve been torturing them. They don’t . . . I don’t really know why they hurt now. They shouldn’t. I came twice.”

Sebastian’s eyes held Kurt’s with a challenging stare and his foot pressed again, a little harder, until Kurt could feel the heavy tread of the boot biting into his skin. “Well, maybe your balls need to be reminded that they don’t always know what’s best for them.”

“Mmmm,” Kurt hummed as the boot finally started pressing enough to hurt.

“And that sometimes the only way out is through.”

“You always say that.”

“It’s always true. Get your eyes back on me, bitch.”

Kurt complied again. It was hard. The pain was swelling steadily and he was so used to going inside himself at times like these. Offering his experience to Sebastian like this made him feel doubly naked. And very, very owned.

“I was going to let you hump my shoe while I crushed your balls,” Sebastian told him. “Since you decided you’d rather stay in the cage, I guess it’s twenty-four minutes of pain, instead. But every time you break eye contact, I’m adding a minute.”

“Thank you,” Kurt breathed before he could realize what he was saying.

Sebastian laughed and stepped down harder.

“Oh, shit.” Kurt was very glad Sebastian towered over him. He could let his head fall back and still keep his gaze connected to his master’s.

“Harder?” Sebastian asked.

“Please.”

“I’m loving how much I’m hearing you say that word. Keep talking. Tell me why you love this. The more you talk the harder I’ll crush. And if you really please me, I’ll fuck you when we’re done.”

Kurt moaned. The pain was already thick and heavy, like a lump of lead in his belly, but he wanted more. This pain was clean and simple and he’d accepted it before he’d even known what it was, by choosing the cage. Most importantly, it was _Sebastian_. No gadgets or props, just Sebastian’s foot and Kurt’s balls. The two of them, one enthusiastically giving pain, the other gratefully receiving.

“I don’t know. I don’t know why I love you hurting me,” Kurt told those avid green eyes. “I need it, I want it. I dream about it sometimes. Ah, god yes.” Sebastian crushed harder and the pain inflated Kurt’s chest. “Just you. Just you making me yours and . . . keeping me here . . . under your foot, god, literally . . .”

The more he talked the less Kurt understood anything he was saying. It was stream-of-consciousness babble, probably truer than anything Kurt ever said when Sebastian _wasn’t_ crushing his balls underfoot, but Sebastian kept his eyes pinned to Kurt’s and he was smiling, and Kurt would have said anything to keep things just like this.

“. . . it makes me yours, and that’s all I ever want, ever, just let me be yours, push me and hurt me and hold me and make it okay. Just please god make it okay. Please . . .”

Tonight, it wasn’t until the timer went off and the pain came to an abrupt end that Kurt began to cry. Sebastian sat right down on the floor and pulled Kurt onto his lap, wrapping him in a soft blanket and strong arms. He didn’t say anything, didn’t caress, he knew Kurt wouldn’t want that. He just held Kurt tight until Kurt stopped crying and came down enough to stiffen and move away, climbing out of the blanket to kneel properly naked in front of his master. He stared at the floor until he remembered to keep his eyes on Sebastian. When he looked up he found his master watching him with an expression that looked like . . . wonder. Or maybe awe. Whatever it was, it was beautiful. Kurt wanted Sebastian to look at him like that all the time.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” Kurt asked, because he also wanted Sebastian’s cock.

Sebastian’s eyes went wide and he laughed. “Just try and stop me.”


	5. Candle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So just a note guys - I usually try to answer all of my comments, but between this and the Klaine Advent, you guys are totally spoiling me with comments (and please don't stop, they're like air to us writers). Since I'm trying to write two one-shots a day, close to 2000 words on average, which is like a double NANO in 24 days . . . I'm going to give myself a break and only answer asks that have questions or things I need to respond to. So I wanted to take a minute to say THANK YOU to all of you who are commenting. I love you, you're amazing and you're keeping me going on this marathon. Every single time I get a notification I stop whatever I'm doing to read, and then I actually thank you out loud and tell you you're awesome. So imagine me doing that. I honestly can't believe anyone still reads Glee, but as long as there's even one of you out there, I'll be writing it! <33
> 
> Also it's crazy how many times I tried typing "humblr." I guess it's because of the many, many times today I've typed the name of a certain web side that's pissing me off and about to implode.

Tuesday was better. Kurt’s brain felt scrambled in the aftermath of Shoe night, but it was like, _gourmet_ scrambled. Gordon Ramsay soft, warm, more-cream-than-eggs scrambled. French scrambled. And Kurt loved all things French. So he told everyone at the studio that he was having an inspiration and he was not to be disturbed, and locked his office door. He did work. He even liked several of the sketches he produced. And every time he felt his throat start to close up he’d put just a bit too much pressure on his balls in his chair and remember.

Sebastian came home earlier than usual. He accepted Kurt’s help out of his coat and scarf then relaxed on the couch while Kurt finished dinner, silent, but always in sight. They made small talk over dinner. Sebastian seemed completely at ease, peppering the meal with gentle smiles and casual touches. Kurt knew he was being taken care of. Any other day he probably would have sniped at Sebastian about the kid gloves. But even he had to admit that maybe Sebastian knew what he needed better than Kurt did himself.

Sebastian disappeared into the bedroom while Kurt cleared away the dishes, but once the last plate was dried and put away he was there again, snagging Kurt’s hand from behind and turning him around. He gripped Kurt gently by the chin, lifted his head, and peered into his eyes.

“Better today?”

Kurt nodded.

“So are you going to be my good bitch tonight?” Sebastian asked in the tone that made Kurt’s insides liquefy.

“Yes,” he breathed.

“Awesome. Come on.”

Sebastian pulled Kurt by the hand to the Advent calendar where Kurt discovered, upon opening the door labeled “4,” a delicate filigree charm in the shape of a lit candle.

“Well. No question what we’re doing tonight,” Kurt said.

“Bedroom,” Sebastian replied.

* * * * *

When Sebastian was done, Kurt couldn’t move an inch. Well, no, he _could_ move, theoretically, but the consequences would have been excruciating. He was attached to the floor by nipple clamps (not the talons at least – small mercy) on a short chain that forced his chest down low. The humbler pulled his balls back in harsh bondage, keeping his back arched to relieve as much of that pressure as he could. He was caught between twin points of pain. And if he moved in any direction, something would hurt even more than it did when he was still.

Sebastian had built a little tower of pillows under Kurt’s free cock, topped by a vibrator that was just high enough to brush the underside of his dick. And in Kurt’s ass the hated vibrating dildo tickled his prostate. Kurt’s body was wracked by competing urges: fuck the vibrator under his dick, push back to try to force more sensation from the one in his ass, rock away from the stress in his balls or the strain on his nipples. None of those were remotely possible. Sebastian had forced him into utter stillness. Kurt was absurdly grateful.

Sebastian walked around Kurt in a circle then sat down next to him, cross-legged. The one thing Kurt could do was turn his head, and he did, to see Sebastian light a long, white candle. He held it in his hand and smiled at Kurt.

“Now. Let’s talk.”

“Talk?” Kurt asked. With the twin vibes teasing him he could barely think.

“Do you know why I locked your balls in the humbler?”

“So you can torture them with that wax?”

Sebastian shrugged. “I could have used rope for that. I picked the humbler for a reason. Hello. It’s a metaphor. For something you need to learn.”

“This isn’t humble enough for you?” Kurt asked. He didn’t want to talk. Pleasure and pain were dancing a _paso doble_ in his body and he just wanted to _feel_.

“You’ve never humbled yourself to anyone, bitch. You submit, but you don’t humble.”

Sebastian stood up and stepped over Kurt, straddling his body. Kurt tried to prepare himself but he shuddered as Sebastian drew a line of hot wax down his spine, moaning, then yelping as his movements tugged on his nipples.

“If you humbled yourself,” Sebastian went on, “then yesterday would never have happened.”

Wax splashed like fire on Kurt’s ass, drizzling back and forth. He thrust forward to escape it, yanking hard on his balls but sliding the sweet spot under his dick across the delicious vibrations. With a frustrated growl he fell back into his almost-neutral position.

“You think too much, bitch. You’re always trying to figure everything out.” One burning drop splashed on Kurt’s scrotum, then another. He pressed his forehead to the floor and stifled the cry that tried to escape. His body wanted to tense, but the gentle vibes were forcing it into pleasure-infused relaxation.

“’Does he want me to come or resist?’ ‘Will it feel good if I come?’ ‘Will it feel bad?’ 'Is it worth it?' You just keep trying to figure out the right answer. You let me bind you and hurt you and pleasure you. You submit yourself to my desire. But if you’d actually humble yourself, you’d stop trying to give me what I want and just be.”

Sebastian’s fingers pulled Kurt’s ass cheeks apart, and fire burned down his crack. It was too much; he couldn’t stifle his cry this time.

“But you were the one who gave me a choice,” he panted when he could breathe again, “to come or not.”

“I said I’d give you a _chance._ ”

“What’s the difference? You want me to humble myself to you. Then you give me choices. I don’t understand.”

Sebastian moved around him, silently. Kurt tensed for more wax, but nothing came. Eventually Sebastian settled where he’d started, on the floor next to Kurt. He didn’t have the candle anymore.

“I never said you should humble yourself to me,” Sebastian said.

Kurt whined a protest. Sebastian wasn’t making sense and he didn’t want to think. The two vibes were so good, the pain was so good . . .

“Humble yourself to this,” Sebastian said. He reached over Kurt and hot wax dribbled across his back, ass, aching balls, almost as if the candle was swinging from a rope, back and forth over his body.

“Humble yourself to your submission, bitch. It’s more powerful than you or me. I’m in fucking awe of it. You should be too. Let go and let it decide what you want.”

Pain bit, pleasure buzzed, wax burned. Kurt closed his eyes.

“Twenty-four minutes,” Sebastian said. “Let’s see what happens.”

* * * * *

When Kurt opened his eyes he was clamp-free, unbound, his head resting on Sebastian’s lap. “Did I come?” he asked faintly.

“If you can’t tell, do you really want to know?”

Kurt lifted his head enough to meet Sebastian’s gaze. “Did you mean it?”

“Of course I fucking meant it. Do you think all BDSM relationships are like this?”

Kurt shook his head, then nestled back down in Sebastian’s lap. “I know they’re not.”

Sebastian’s fingers carded through Kurt’s hair. Kurt closed his eyes. “You were right about one thing,” Sebastian murmured from far away. “You’re one of a kind.”

Kurt couldn’t have agreed more.


	6. Daisy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is for gaazhagens over on tumblr . . . thank you sweetie!

On the fifth night, Sebastian sat through dinner without saying anything about the calendar. When he finished eating he took a sheaf of papers into the spare room to grade. He hadn’t emerged when Kurt finished with the dishes, so Kurt steeled himself and went to kneel in the living room, next to the table where the calendar sat. Humbling himself.

It was easier said than done. The only thing more complicated than Kurt’s relationship with Sebastian was his relationship with his own needs. The whole reason he’d been looking for someone like Sebastian was because he knew he needed a strong, intuitive dominant to push him into the darker things he craved. Now Sebastian was pushing him by demanding that he push himself into the things he wanted Sebastian to push him into and the whole thing was spinning in too many circles for Kurt to get a grasp on it.

“Oh, very good bitch.”

Kurt didn’t look up. He kept his head bowed and his hands clasped behind his back.

Sebastian himself opened the door in the Advent calendar, then squatted in front of Kurt and held out a charm in the shape of a daisy.

What the hell was Sebastian going to do with flowers? – Kurt thought but did not say. He was a submissive. Sebastian’s submissive. He loved submitting to Sebastian. So he might as well try to do this on Sebastian’s terms.

Sebastian’s hand cupped Kurt’s jaw, lifting his gaze up from the floor. “You can talk, you know. I don’t expect you not to be you.”

“You make this very complicated,” Kurt said.

“Look who’s talking.” Sebastian stood up. “I have something really special planned tonight. Into the bedroom. And I think you should crawl.”

Kurt hated crawling. So of course his locked dick left a trail of precome all the way to the bed.

* * * * *

The daisy was an animation on a computer screen. That was pretty much all Kurt understood about the contraption Sebastian had him attached to. Well, no, he knew he was bound to the bed, with electrodes on his balls and his uncaged cock. Sebastian had pulled one of the night tables into Kurt’s line of sight and set up a boxy device on it. When he turned it on the screen lit up with an image of a bright pink daisy with a smiling face.

Sebastian came and sat on the bed next to Kurt. In his hand he held something that resembled the hated vibrator, except it, like the daisy, was bright pink. Sebastian’s face wore the smile that said he was very, very proud of himself and Kurt was in a world of trouble.

“So this,” Sebastian said, brandishing the pink thing, “is a very scientific pussy-training device.”

“Excuse me?” Kurt asked as heat flooded his cheeks.

“Well, really I guess it’s a Kegel trainer, something like that, but I like pussy-trainer better. It’s just so . . . what the word? Feminine.”

Kurt sighed, but his dick gave a happy throb.

“According to the instructions, you put this –” he waved the wand again, “– in your pussy, and clench. And if you do it right, the little daisy – isn’t she cute? – moves up and down on the screen. Now if you were a woman, your goal would be to get that thing bouncing up and down like you when I let you ride my dick. And I imagine the just humiliation of that would be enough to get you going, but I went ahead and had Dan make a few modifications.”

Kurt groaned. Dan. Dan of the basement torture rack. Dan who could jury-rig anything into an instrument of torment.

Sebastian reached across Kurt and grabbed a small black remote control. “So I’m going to slide this baby in _your_ pussy,” he told Kurt, whose balls clenched at the word, “and your job is to keep the pretty daisy above the red line. If you do, you’ll feel this.” He pushed a button on the remote and the electrodes on Kurt’s cock came to life, firing with a warm, gentle frequency that tingled pleasantly against his skin. Sebastian left the current running until Kurt’s cock began to dance and dribble under the stimulation.

“But if you stop and the daisy goes below the line . . .”

Kurt stiffened as the pleasant stimulation ended and much harsher electricity slammed through his balls. Involuntary grunts were forced from his throat and his bound hands closed into fists and battered the headboard.

Sebastian cut the juice and Kurt collapsed back against the bed. While Kurt was preoccupied trying to catch his breath, Sebastian lubed up the wand and slid it into Kurt’s ass. It was big enough to notice, but size wasn’t the point of this. It was also heavier than Kurt expected. His ass clenched without his permission, testing it.

Sebastian pushed a few buttons on the remote; the video screen brightened and the pink daisy came to life, grinning wider and bouncing gently, like a little kid expecting a treat.

“The program gives you one minute to figure out what to do before the juice comes on,” Sebastian said. “You know the deal, bitch. Twenty-four minutes or orgasm.”

* * * * *

Twenty minutes later Kurt was drenched in sweat and precome, trembling with effort, chewing the fuck out of his bottom lip, and completely at the mercy of the machine controlling his body. It had seemed like such a simple choice – clench or don’t clench. But maintaining the right amount of pressure took focus, and as soon as Kurt found some, the sensual buzzing around the head of his cock made focus impossible. Inevitably he would relax into the mounting pleasure only to clench again when the shock slammed into his balls. At some point he stopped feeling like he had any agency at all. The machine decided what he did when; it rocked him between moaning bliss and brutal pain. He was only along for the ride. There was no question of choosing to come or not. He could try to fight the machine, and lose, or just accept defeat from the start and submit to its – and by extension Sebastian’s – supremacy.

Just when his desire began to peak, and he was sure that the machine had decided to let him come, everything stopped and Kurt was left hanging on the precipice of release, with no answering pain to bring him back from the edge. Kurt cried out a denial, but Sebastian’s hand pressed to his chest and he went limp on the bed. His master had spoken. All it took was one touch to send Kurt into his twisted parody of afterglow.

He was vaguely aware of electrodes being pulled from his skin, his legs released and folded up, and then Sebastian was inside him, and on top of him, and Sebastian’s mouth pressed hot to his, invading him in every perfect way. Kurt’s arms reached to hold him before the bondage pulled them up short.

“You want to know a secret, bitch?” Sebastian whispered as he thrust hard and deep into Kurt’s body and Kurt’s cock convulsed with unfulfilled need. “That was only twenty-two minutes. You were just so hot, I couldn’t resist you anymore.”

Kurt might have decided that was unfair, if being fucked hard by Sebastian left him room for thought, which it didn’t. Concepts like fair didn’t exist when his master was thrusting into him, nailing his prostate while his cock was free, which it never was when Sebastian fucked him. Sebastian’s cock drove Kurt’s pleasure higher, his belly rubbed Kurt’s free cock, and Kurt didn’t have anything left to hold back with. And then, again, just when Kurt was sure he was going to come, Sebastian stilled and spilled inside him, and Kurt was left to cry out Sebastian’s pleasure while his own cock throbbed and flexed, bereft.

* * * * *

“How did you know I wouldn’t come?” Kurt murmured to Sebastian later, as they lay side-by-side.

“I didn’t,” Sebastian said with that killer grin. “Sometimes I like to live dangerously too.”

“But would you have punished me? If I came while you were fucking me?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

Kurt nestled his head against Sebastian’s shoulder. “Good.”


	7. Hand

There was really nothing in the world, in Sebastian’s opinion, as gorgeous as Kurt naked, strung up from the ceiling, with his eyes lowered and his magnificent, hard cock thrusting forward, purpled and damp at the tip. Of course, Kurt was compelling in any kind of bondage – just the fact that someone like Kurt would let Sebastian bind and restrict him was always enough to get Sebastian hard. But being suspended, stretched out, approachable from all angles – it made Kurt feel vulnerable in a way nothing else did. Sebastian didn’t understand why. If _he_ was the submissive, it would be a spreader bar that left him feeling exposed and defenseless. Fortunately, he didn’t need to understand in order to appreciate.

“Now that I’ve got your attention,” Sebastian said.

Kurt, pulled high on his tiptoes, quirked an eyebrow at him. Vulnerable, but still saucy. Gorgeous.

Sebastian opened the number 6 door in the Advent calendar and took out the charm of the day. He held the little silver hand up for Kurt to see. Kurt’s eyes widened and something hungry flared in them before he could school his features back to neutral.

“What?” Sebastian asked.

“Nothing,” Kurt said.

“Tell me what you were thinking, bitch.” Sebastian made it an order.

There was a moment of inner struggle and then Kurt did that thing that made Sebastian want to kiss him or fuck him or declare his undying devotion. He let go. He shifted, maybe that was the way to say it. One moment he was flushing at the idea of opening his inner self to Sebastian and the next he was meeting Sebastian’s eyes, head high, owning everything.

“I was hoping the charm meant you were going to spank me,” Kurt said, provocative as an odalisque.

“Why?”

“Because I love it.”

“To be spanked?”

“With your hand,” Kurt said. “You almost never do that. It’s so good.” He somehow managed to give Sebastian a coy, under-the-lashes glance, even though his head was inches above Sebastian’s.

Sebastian smiled. “Nice try but sorry, bitch. No spanking tonight.”

Kurt pushed his lip out in a little pout.

“I think you’ll like what I do have planned though. At least at first.” Sebastian took a step closer, until Kurt’s cock was almost touching the front of his trousers. “Remember on the first, when I took off the cage after all that time? And you begged me just to touch your dick?”

Kurt nodded. His eyes were so dark Sebastian could hardly see any blue.

“Well I’m going to touch it tonight. I’m going to stroke it. I’m going to let you fuck my fist until you come. If you decide to come. Which I’m pretty sure you will.”

Kurt had to take two long breaths before he could speak. “What’s the catch?” he asked faintly.

Sebastian just hummed. He stepped behind Kurt and reached for the little tube on the dresser. When he’d spread the ointment on his hands he reached around Kurt from behind and stroked over his nipples with slippery thumbs.

Kurt let his head fall back against Sebastian’s cheek – Sebastian was never going to get tired of that surrender – and moaned softly as Sebastian plucked his stretched-tight nipples into swollen, hard points. He flicked them with his thumbnails over and over and Kurt’s moans grew louder as the warmth seeped into his skin. Sebastian’s hands were warm too, just this side of too much, and if the skin on his fingers was starting to burn, Kurt’s sensitive nipples must be . . .

Kurt gasped, then twisted, but Sebastian wrapped his arms around Kurt’s torso and pulled him off balance against his body. “Don’t move, bitch. You don’t move a muscle unless I tell you to.”

Kurt whined but obeyed. His toes found the floor again. Tiny twitches and shivers danced around his body but he held himself still, which was impressive, Sebastian thought. If the sensation in his hands was any indication, Kurt’s nipples must feel like they were on fire. Sebastian gave each one a last tweak, making Kurt yelp, then went back to the tube for more.

This time he moved in front of Kurt, who was still twitching. His lips were pressed tight together as he fought to be still.

Sebastian held up his hand so Kurt could see the Icy Hot coating his palm, then he wrapped his fingers around Kurt’s pretty cock and started to stroke.

Kurt’s tight-pressed lips fell open on a moan, the good kind of moan, and Sebastian knew he’d get at least a few delicious strokes before the heat set in. He made sure to palm over the head and he coated Kurt’s balls with his other hand for good measure. He jacked Kurt slowly, with a tight fist. But when Kurt’s moans gave way to short sharp cries of pain, he sped up, stripping Kurt’s burning cock as Kurt fought not to writhe away from the torment.

When Sebastian was sure the cream had reached its full potential he stopped moving altogether. He held Kurt’s cock in his hot fist and watched as Kurt trembled and whimpered and tried not to move.

“Twenty-four minutes,” he said.

Kurt’s eyes were full of pain, but soft and open, without a hint of opposition or denial. “What if I . . . come?” he asked in a tiny voice.

“I’ve got everything we need to clean you up right there on the dresser. I can make it stop as soon as you spill. But you have to do the work, bitch. Fuck my fist and come and it’s all over.” Sebastian gripped Kurt’s shaft with just enough pressure that Kurt could slide back and forth, and waited.

It didn’t take as long as he expected. Whatever issues Kurt had had with claiming an orgasm the past few days must have been resolved, either by the hard work Sebastian was putting in with him or – and Sebastian could admit this was much more likely – the fact that most of his erogenous zones felt like they’d been dipped in molten lava. The struggle was short tonight, but just as powerful to watch. After only moments Kurt closed his eyes, dug his toes into the floor, and began to thrust through the channel of Sebastian’s fist.

Sebastian helped a little. Kurt’s cock was big, after all, and his range of motion was limited. Sebastian wanted to be sure that every centimeter of Kurt’s cock was properly tortured. He watched Kurt’s face, his lips twisted in a grimace of pain, the muscles in his neck cording with effort. He watched tears escape from under Kurt’s lashes. They didn’t alarm him. Tears were Kurt’s release – the only one Sebastian enthusiastically allowed. He watched until Kurt’s head turned toward his upraised arm and his mouth dropped open in an “o” and he came with a drawn-out groan, shuddering in his bonds as semen spurted over Sebastian’s fist.

Kurt’s cock hadn’t even finished spasming when he began to beg, “Please take it off, it’s too much, please Sir, Master, please . . .”

He was so beautiful hanging there, unselfconsciously begging. Sebastian wanted to leave him just like that forever. But a deal was a deal. And if he moved to clean up not quite as quickly as he could have, well, dominance had its privileges.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I don't want to be a day behind, I should be posting today's later. Hopefully. ;)


	8. Egg

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this one is 1) ridiculously long, which means I remain a day behind because we're going out tonight so no writing for me and 2) ridiculously self-indulgent because I guess I'm getting as sentimental as Sebastian about Kurt's gorgeous submission. I hope you guys like it. :)

After dinner on the seventh, they made out. Sebastian couldn’t help it. He was just too fucking happy. He’d been thinking about Kurt all day. And it wasn’t even how Kurt had looked hanging and tortured and tearful, although that was an image Sebastian would cherish. What kept drawing his attention away from his lectures was the moment when Kurt had let himself play the role of provocative submissive. Those eyes, the soft parting of his lips, the way he’d _looked_ at Sebastian with naked desire. He could push Kurt to desire. He was an expert in that. But last night Kurt hadn’t needed the soft blanket of subspace. He’d been sharp and there and looking at Sebastian like he adored him. And Sebastian couldn’t stop thinking about it.

When he got home Kurt wasn’t in the kitchen. The door to the spare room was closed, which meant Kurt had brought work home. He’d left a post-it on the fridge that said, “Pizza?”

So Sebastian changed, ordered the food, and when it arrived Kurt appeared, properly naked of course. They ate in relaxed silence. Everything about Kurt was relaxed, which was a relief to Sebastian. He knew the past few days had been hard for Kurt. But it was Friday. They had an awesome weekend to look forward to. And Kurt was relaxed.

That was how they ended up on the sofa, twined together with mouths teasing mouths and necks and ears. Because Kurt was relaxed and Sebastian was happy and he wanted to savor it. Of course, knowing what was coming added spice to the savor. Sebastian was sure Kurt was feeling the anticipation as well. But he remained loose and pliant, his mouth opening under Sebastian’s and drawing him in. He even laughed, when Sebastian pulled him up to straddle his lap.

“What has gotten into you tonight?” Kurt asked as he rolled his hips in Sebastian’s lap.

Sebastian stroked his hands down the curve of Kurt’s spine. “You. I’ve been thinking about you all day. Hanging from the ceiling last night . . . you were spectacular.”

“Really? Tell me more.”

Sebastian decided to indulge him. “I know this has been hard for you. Which it’s supposed to be. Last night you gave in to it. You trusted me enough to let yourself go. And the way you begged me to spank you? That was just . . . awesome.”

“And yet, somehow I didn’t end up getting spanked.”

“Cheeky bitch!” Sebastian pinched Kurt’s nipple. “I had plans. And you were hanging from the ceiling. That’s totally the wrong position for a bare-hand spanking. We both know the only way to give a really good bare-hand spanking is over the knee. Besides, what kind of dom would I be if I just gave you what you asked for?”

“The nice kind?” Kurt asked.

“Uh-huh. Do you deserve the nice kind? Does the nice kind deserve you?”

“You make a good point,” Kurt allowed. But he rubbed his ass against Sebastian’s dick, which was rapidly hardening inside his sweats, and narrowed his eyes. “So do you have big plans for tonight or . . .?”

“Or what?” Sebastian asked. As if he didn’t already know.

“Well, you did the responsible dom thing. You made me wait. It’s not ‘right away’ anymore.” Kurt slid his arms around Sebastian’s neck and leaned down to kiss him, teasing his tongue along Sebastian’s bottom lip. “I could beg again,” he said, low and provocative. “Since you like it when I beg.”

Sebastian did have plans. Nice, complicated, Friday night plans. But this was too much fun to walk away from. “I do like it. I also like it when you ask.”

He watched Kurt process that, take it in and understand what Sebastian was asking for. It was much hotter than it should have been.

Kurt stopped the lap dance and sat down on Sebastian's thighs, taking his arms away from Sebastian’s shoulders and dropping the come-hither act completely. “Sebastian,” he said in perfectly normal voice, without a trace of breathy provocation.

“Hmmm?”

“I think I’ve been . . . good, this week. Haven’t I?” It was simple and direct. Just Kurt, asking a question. Sebastian’s dick throbbed.

“You have. I’ve been impressed.”

“You even said I was spectacular last night. And this _has_ been hard for me but I listened to you, and I tried. I am trying to . . .” pink tinged his cheeks but his demeanor didn’t change, “. . . humble myself. So I think I deserve, I’m just going to say it, _deserve_ your consideration, at least. You have final say of course, but I want you know that, when you spank me,” another blush for _spank_ , “nothing feels as good. Or maybe I mean right. Fundamentally _us_. Me laid out under your hand and you giving me pain . . . how can I explain it? The fact that when I feel that blow, that sting, there’s nothing between us. Just your body and mine. You speak to me through it. If you’re angry, I can feel it. And when you get turned on I can feel that too, just from the way your hand falls. I can tell when you start to let yourself really enjoy it, or when you’re pushing through the pain in your hand. I _love_ that part. And I can feel when you start to watch me, to make sure I’m still okay.” Kurt stopped to breathe, bit his lip and flushed a deeper red. “I never feel as owned as I do when you spank me. Which is a pretty high bar because you completely own me. I’ve been thinking today too, all day, wishing you’d agreed to it last night. And I won’t say I need it, because you decide what I need, but I . . . feel like I need it. When I put my balls under your shoe, that was good, but this would be so much better. So please, Sebastian. Please consider beating my ass with your bare hand tonight.”

Sebastian had to swallow several times before he could speak. “What the fuck am supposed to say after that?” he finally managed.

Kurt smiled at the glimpse of the effect he’d had. “Yes?”

“You know this Advent thing is supposed to be about orgasms.”

“You think I can’t come from you spanking me? After everything I just said?”

Sebastian knew that he could, but that was too easy. Nice only went so far; in his heart, Kurt only wanted it to go so far. “Could you come in the cage?” he asked.

Kurt considered. “Maybe?”

“Really? It’s not like you have months of denial saved up to help you.”

“I think . . . if you used the vibe in my ass. And maybe taped one to the cage. My cock is very well-trained now. I think it could.”

It was that last bit that put Sebastian over the edge. Kurt calling his own cock “it.” What more could a dominant ask for?

* * * * *

He had to do a little rearranging, but fortunately he had a charm he could use. It was shaped like an egg, so Kurt got the treat of the egg vibrator in his ass instead of the orange one he hated. And Sebastian obligingly taped the bullet vibe to his cock cage for added incentive. He set them up right there on the sofa, with Kurt draped over his lap, his luscious ass presented, twitching from the vibes.

“So twenty-four minutes or until you come,” Sebastian said. He ran his palm over the globes of Kurt’s ass, building the anticipation.

“But . . . what if I come right away?” Kurt asked. His voice was already attenuating in that way it did when he started to slip.

“Fine, if that’s what you want. Twenty-four minutes whether you come or not. Because I’m so nice. But remember, the earlier you come, the colder and nastier your spunk is going to be when I make you lick it up.”

Kurt moaned, shuddered, and Sebastian let the first smack fall, full force, no easing into it. He went as fast and hard as his hand could stand. He savored the feeling of Kurt’s belly writhing against his erection.

Five minutes in Kurt started to cry.

Ten minutes in he began to lift his ass to receive each blow, crying out as the force shoved him down then pushing up again to meet the next.

Twelve minutes in Kurt groaned “Oh, fuck,” and came with a high whine. Sebastian was sorry he wasn’t in a position to see the semen dribble from the opening in his cage, but he very much enjoyed the way Kurt’s fists clutched the couch cushions as he tried not to writhe away in his post-ruined-orgasm, overstimulated haze.

Eighteen minutes in, Kurt had worked through the orgasm drop and was again thrusting under Sebastian’s hand.

At twenty minutes he broke down and babbled – just a long, nonsensical string of “please” and “thank you” and “mercy” and “master,” flung at random, as the skin on his ass deepened from red into purple.

When it was over, he cried again, and Sebastian turned off the vibes, slipped out the egg, and stroked his back until the sobs quieted and Kurt pushed himself up without being told, knelt on the floor, and cleaned up his mess. Then Sebastian made Kurt get him an ice pack. He ignored how longingly Kurt watched him soothe the burn in his palm. He made Kurt worship his cock while he tended his hand. Even tearful and in pain, Kurt was an enthusiastic acolyte. Sebastian came so hard it took him several minutes to recover. Kurt stayed on his knees, holding Sebastian’s cock in his mouth and trembling until Sebastian was ready to move.

When they went to bed, Kurt draped himself on Sebastian’s chest – ass up, of course – and immediately fell into a deep, heavy sleep.

Sebastian arrange the covers carefully, making sure Kurt’s ass wasn’t touched, and followed him down. Happy.


	9. Cane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to say before but forgot - I'm glad you're all loving the Seb perspective! I did the first five from Kurt's perspective so I'm planning to do the second five from Seb's then back and forth. And yeah, I'm still a day behind but I'll get caught up eventually . . .

On Saturday, Kurt spent the day cooking and cleaning as usual, and Sebastian spent the day watching Kurt. Not just for the erotic value, although that was considerable, but for the satisfaction of seeing Kurt, still pliant and subdued from the night before, move through his duties. Every once in a while he would stop and close his eyes, take a deep breath, and Sebastian could tell from the way his ass muscles twitched and his cage bounced as his cock tried to grow that he was remembering the spanking. Fortunately, Sebastian hadn’t brought any work home for the weekend so he could indulge himself watching his bitch. He fired up his laptop and pretended to be productive, but really he just enjoyed Kurt.

By the end of the day he was certain Kurt was ready for his plans. But he held back, savoring the anticipation. Kurt kept casting glances his way as he cleaned up dinner, folded laundry, and generally frittered away time waiting for Sebastian’s summons. But ultimately he gave up and came and knelt by the sofa where Sebastian was pretending to read.

“Calendar?” Kurt asked when Sebastian looked up.

“Someone’s eager to be hurt,” Sebastian said.

Kurt flushed, but didn’t respond.

“Go ahead.”’

Sebastian had left the calendar on the table in the corner. Kurt went to it and opened the eighth door.

“A candy cane?”

Sebastian put his book aside and got up. He took the little red and white enameled charm from Kurt’s fingers. “Well, it’s a cane, anyway. I couldn’t find an actual cane charm.”

“Cane?” Kurt breathed, and Sebastian could see fear flash in his eyes before he managed to hide it.

“Don’t worry, bitch. I’m not going to use it on your ass.”

There was relief, then consternation as Kurt realized what the other options were.

Sebastian hid his smile by turning to go get the cane.

It was short, thin, rattan, and wicked. It stung like a motherfucker and Sebastian knew Kurt hated it. But when he returned to the living room brandishing it he could see a thin string of precome dangling from the end of Kurt’s cage. It never ceased to amaze him how deeply Kurt was aroused by fear.

“Don’t move,” Sebastian told Kurt. He took the cage key from around his neck and worked it into the tiny lock. Of course, Kurt’s cock began to fill even before the cage was off. Kurt may have been apprehensive about what was to come, but his cock was all in. As always.

“I want you to put your hands behind your back,” Sebastian said after he put the cage aside. “And don’t move a muscle. You don’t flinch, you don’t try to get away. Hold perfectly still.”

He watched Kurt process the fact that he would have to be standing for this. “Sebastian . . .”

“I’m not going to cane your cock for twenty-four minutes, of course. Even I know that would be excessive.”

“Thank god,” Kurt breathed.

“You get twenty-four strokes. Unless you come. If you can actually come from this, I’ll stop.”

He waited for Kurt to say something, but the man who’d been so vocal last night simply sucked in a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and lifted his chin like a proud noble facing a firing squad. Sebastian wanted to kiss him breathless, but he refrained. That was so not what Kurt needed before this ordeal. Instead, he wrapped his left hand around the root of Kurt’s cock, pulling it down parallel to the floor while his right cocked the cane.

Sebastian didn’t hold back. He was, after all, a sadist. The first blow whistled through the air then thwacked the shaft painfully and Kurt shuddered, his lips pressed hard together and the muscles in his neck and shoulders corded taught. But he didn’t move out of position and he didn’t make a sound. He took the first five, laid carefully from mid-shaft to behind the head, silently, convulsing after each as his body processed the pain. The sixth Sebastian aimed right on the head of his cock, forcing a groan through Kurt’s tight lips. As if that first exclamation opened something inside of him, each subsequent blow triggered louder and louder cries. Welts rose dark red in the cane’s wake, but Kurt stayed upright, and kept his hands in place behind him, as the torture increased. The tenth blow brought tears – Sebastian was astonished he held out so long – and the twelfth a sound that might have been the start of a _please_ , before Kurt forced it into a moan.

He came on the fifteenth. As the blow fell Kurt gasped in instead of crying out, tension melted out of his body, and his cock spurted. He collapsed before he’d even finished coming, but Sebastian was ready; he caught him and swept him up in his arms. Under normal circumstances, Kurt would have protested that, but these were far from normal circumstances. Sebastian carried him to the couch and sat right down with Kurt on his lap. He wrapped a throw around them.

“I’m impressed, bitch,” he said softly. “I honestly didn’t think you’d come. Now I know exactly how much of a masochist you are. You should probably be worried about that.”

Kurt was silent, eyes closed, lolling in Sebastian’s arms.

“Make a noise at least, so I know you’re conscious.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Kurt hummed.

Sebastian twisted and pulled until he was reclining on the couch, Kurt stretched out against him. His own dick was hard as diamonds and dying to release, but he supposed he could wait, this once. Even he had to admit that Kurt had earned a rest.


	10. Gingerbread Man

Kurt had turned a corner. That much was obvious. Maybe it was the time away from the studio, maybe he’d found a way to process these daily orgasm exercises as a kind of mirror-image of his usual denial. Or maybe in true submissive style, he’d simply found a way to function in the paradigm his master had imposed. Sebastian didn’t know how or why Kurt had finally submitted to this process, but he was relieve it had happened. It was always better when Kurt was flourishing under rather than fighting Sebastian’s dominance.

On the ninth, when Sebastian brought the Advent calendar to the coffee table, Kurt came and knelt at Sebastian’s feet without being told to. His cock was free. Sebastian had left it free all day. The angry welts caused enough pain, he was sure, without packing him in the cage as well. And he was very, very sure that Kurt wasn’t going to be in any way tempted to wrap a hand around that abused flesh. But despite what it had suffered the night before, Kurt’s cock began to swell as soon as he was on his knees. Sebastian could only marvel at it. Kurt was just as pliant as he’d been the day before; his eyes weren’t quite focused as he gazed up at Sebastian.

“Ready, bitch?” Sebastian asked. It was only a formality, which Kurt seemed to know. He smiled and bowed his head. “Then go ahead and open it.”

“A gingerbread man?” Kurt asked softly when he’d retrieved the day’s charm. He looked up at Sebastian, bemused.

“Sadly, I discovered a kinky-shaped hole in the bracelet charm industry. The lack of sexual innuendo is shocking. Someone should get on that. A gingerbread man was the best I could do. It’s really just the first part of that.”

“Gingerbread?” Kurt asked.

Sebastian held up his hands like he was measuring a fish, or the word, then pushed them a little closer together.

Kurt’s eyes opened wide.

“Now he understands,” Sebastian said. “Lay yourself out over the coffee table. Ass up.” Sebastian moved the calendar out of the way and got up to retrieve the items he’d prepared. When he returned to the living room, Kurt was kneeling with his torso laying across the low stone table.

Sebastian had bought the biggest piece of ginger the market had. And he’d whittled it himself into a lovely little plug. It was nice and juicy and going to burn like the fires of hell in Kurt’s ass. He pulled Kurt’s buttocks apart and thumbed over his hole, just to tease, until Kurt was moaning and arching under his hand. Then he slipped the ginger in as deep as he could. He’d left a side spur of it attached to create a natural base that wouldn’t be sucked in.

“Okay, up now,” he commanded, and Kurt obeyed. When Sebastian sat on the couch, Kurt lowered himself to kneel between Sebastian’s spread thighs. “How does it feel?”

“Warm,” Kurt said. “For now.” They both knew that was going to change.

The nipple clamps were next. Sebastian had chosen their least harsh set and attached them to a long chain that he could pull on from the couch. By the time they bit his nipples, Kurt was starting to twitch from the sensation in his ass.

Sebastian leaned back and unzipped his pants. “Tonight, you’re going to blow me. It’s going to be your very best effort, no matter how your ass is feeling. You have twenty-four minutes to make me come.” He slid his foot – in a soft, cotton sock – between Kurt’s knees and nudged his cock. “And if you finish before the time’s up, you can hump my foot, and come, if you can get there. But at twenty-four minutes it’s all over.”

The ginger must have really kicked in then because Kurt gasped, then groaned. His ass clenched around the increasing heat, then with a cry he forced it to relax.

“Clock’s ticking, bitch.”

Kurt dove in. Better to have something to distract himself, Sebastian supposed. He enjoyed his unobstructed view of Kurt’s ass trying not to thrust and clench. He tugged at the nipple clamps, just to keep things interesting. And despite all the sensations wracking his body, Kurt sucked him off with perfect form. Of course, Kurt was extremely well-trained to Sebastian’s exacting standards. And the tiny expressions of pain that leaked out around Sebastian’s cock in his mouth just made everything better. He didn’t rush, either. Kurt gave that blow job every ounce of attention Sebastian had come to expect from him. His mouth was soft and hot, licking every sensitive spot, even as his breath hitched and shuddered through the pain.

Honestly, Sebastian thought, much as he loved a complicated setup, sometimes the simplest things were the very best. There was literally nothing that could compare to having his slave pleasure him while trying oh-so-hard not to let his torment interfere with his master’s enjoyment.

Kurt’s mouth enticed him over the edge into orgasm at eighteen minutes. Sebastian took another full minute to let himself recover while Kurt waited at his feet, trembling. Eventually, Sebastian remembered to offer his foot.

“Well, bitch? You can’t be too desperate after all the release you’ve had. Are you going to go for it or make me ice you down to lock you back up?”

Kurt looked up at him. His eyes were dark with pain, his mouth wet from its work. His poor welted cock bobbed out in front of him. He looked wrecked, and perfect. “I want to come,” he said.

“Why?”

“You want me to want it, so I want it.”

“Perfect, bitch. You’ve got four and a half minutes left.”

Kurt’s face was already flushed from effort and the harsh sting in his ass, so Sebastian couldn’t tell if the humiliation of humping his foot was as acute as he’d imagined it would be. But that was okay. There was plenty to enjoy. Kurt started out gingerly, but in fact the caning had all targeted the top of his cock. The underside was mostly untouched and Sebastian’s sock was soft, so Kurt quickly sped up, chasing release despite the extra pain clenching around the ginger must be causing. Sebastian wanted to live in this moment forever, his gorgeous bitch rutting frantically against his sock, eyes closed, mouth soft and open, whimpering from the crazy mix of pleasure and pain. What Kurt had said was true. Sebastian could see that Kurt truly wanted it. The burn from the ginger should be cooling soon, so it was possible that this orgasm might be nothing but blissful release.

So when he was perfectly sure that Kurt was a whisper from the point of no return, Sebastian pulled his foot away.

Kurt’s eyes opened wide and he fixed Sebastian with a look of utter dismay, still humping the air, then his face crumpled on a gasp as semen bubbled in his slit in slow motion and dribbled pathetically down his cock. He pitched forward onto his hands, gasping for air.

There had been one minute left, according to Sebastian’s phone. But Kurt didn’t need to know that. Sebastian made the rules; Sebastian changed the rules. He grinned down at his submissive, whose dick was still twitching and dribbling out little puddles of come. “Oh. So close, bitch. Better get cleaning that up.”

And Sebastian’s own dick did a little of its own twitching when a shuddering Kurt obediently complied.


	11. Wand

“Is this some kind of statement about my personal demeanor?” Kurt asked as he brandished the charm shaped like a silver want with a star on top.

“Are you suggesting you’re _not_ a fairy princess?” Sebastian retorted.

That shut Kurt up long enough for Sebastian to strip off his clothes and climb up on the bed.

“Am I supposed to levitate you or something?” Kurt waved the wand at Sebastian.

“You’re supposed to get up here and get me hard then ride me while I torture you.”

 _That_ shut Kurt up for even longer. Sebastian hardly ever let Kurt ride him. He was a slave, after all, and that much control just wasn’t good for him. Sebastian was of the firm belief that submissives should be pounded into . . . well, whatever was available, when they got fucked. And Sebastian _loved_ doing the pounding. But hey, it was Christmas. That and Sebastian really needed his hands for the torture part, which was going to be _awesome_.

“You might want to get your ass in gear before I change my mind,” he told his still-gaping bitch.

Kurt flew to the bed, climbed up and straddled Sebastian’s legs. But then he hesitated. All those lovely conflicted emotions that Sebastian never got tired of flashed in his eyes.

“It’s okay, bitch. Do what I told you to do.”

“Can I . . .?”

“You can use whatever you want. Just get me hard and get in the saddle.”

Kurt made a face at the lame metaphor but leaned forward and eagerly sucked Sebastian’s cock into his mouth.

Kurt was horny. That much was obvious. It surprised Sebastian that he would be, given all the orgasms he’d had the past ten days. Painful, ruined, none of them had been exactly pleasurable, but still, Sebastian had assumed the pressure release alone would eventually give him some respite. But he’d been clinging to Sebastian all day, every chance he got, and whenever Sebastian touched him he made that sound that was purely Kurt, a kind of soft, high hitch, like a gasp stuck in his throat that had to be squeezed out through a too-small space. He’d been presenting his ass too, all day. Sebastian wasn’t even sure he’d realized he was doing it. And now he reached for the lube Sebastian handed him and got busy stretching himself even as he sucked his master to full erection.

Kurt moaned as he positioned himself and sank down on Sebastian’s length.

“Freeze,” Sebastian said when his dick was fully seated in Kurt’s ass. Kurt bit his lip very prettily, but obeyed. Sebastian reached under his pillow and pulled out the smaller of the two objects he’d hidden there. “Remember, this is about orgasms,” he said, pushing the key into the lock on Kurt’s dick. He had to tug to drag the cage off Kurt’s hardening shaft. Kurt winced as the steel abraded the welts, but his cock didn’t flag a bit.

“Please, please tell me you’re going to let me come while I ride you,” Kurt begged.

“Oh, I am.”

“But . . .?” Kurt prompted, because he was no fool.

Sebastian smiled and pulled out the other object he’d hidden. He pushed the button a few times and Kurt flinched as the violet wand spit electricity into the air. “You get to ride me for twenty-four minutes. Or until I come. And you can come if you can get there, but you keep riding until time’s up or I shoot.”

Kurt didn’t ask what would happen if Sebastian didn’t come in the twenty-four minutes, and Sebastian didn’t bother to explain. He was very, very sure he’d be coming a lot sooner than that.

“Giddyup!” Sebastian smacked Kurt’s ass hard, which knocked Kurt into high gear. He clasped his hands behind his back without being told and began to ride.

Sebastian gave him a minute to find his groove and get positioned just right. He could tell by Kurt’s moans, and how his head fell back and his eyes dropped closed, when he’d hit just the right angle to stimulate his prostate. He let Kurt enjoy the rare freedom for a few seconds then zapped the wand in the air again.

Kurt’s eyes flew open, but he knew better than to let his rhythm falter. He watched nervously as Sebastian moved the wand close to his ribs and fired it up, dragging it up Kurt’s torso closer and closer to his sensitive nipple. Kurt cried out when the electricity bit into the delicate flesh, but his areola pebbled and swelled, pushing his nipple forward for more torment.

Sebastian had to hand it to Kurt. He never flagged. He rose and fell on Sebastian’s cock steadily, no matter how Sebastian tortured him. Sebastian certainly did everything he could to distract Kurt. The wand played over one nipple until it was flushed dark then treated the other to the same torment. He drew a sparking line down Kurt’s belly, around the root of his cock, along the crease of his thigh then down between his balls. Kurt closed his eyes again, moaned freely, and didn’t even try to avoid pushing into the wand on his downstroke. He was lost in all of the sensation, and Sebastian adored his ability to let go like this. He played the wand over one testicle then the other, slowly drawing lines of sparking fire, until Kurt was gasping little _guh_ sounds in time with his motion. His cock flexed and dripped, begging for attention, and Sebastian could feel his own orgasm building so he gave that gorgeous dick what it wanted. He dragged the firing wand up the length of Kurt’s cock and around the head until Kurt’s sounds strangled in his throat.

He toyed with the idea of letting himself fall over the edge before Kurt, denying him, but he couldn’t resist dipping the wand into Kurt’s slit and as the electricity stabbed his urethra Kurt froze, shuddered violently, and cried out loud. His cock spurted white all over Sebastian’s chest.

Sebastian slapped Kurt’s ass again. “Who said you could stop, bitch?”

Dazed and gasping, Kurt resumed his ride.

Sebastian fired the wand around the head of Kurt’s cock once more, to punish him for breaking form. Kurt’s howl was gorgeous, and Sebastian would have kept torturing his oversensitive body, but his own orgasm was about to break and he wanted to give it everything he had.

But that was okay, he thought as he fell over the delicious cliff, there’d be plenty of time for that after Kurt licked him clean.


	12. Book

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for itallstartedwithharry, whose suggestions, while not exactly this, got me thinking about the fun that is size-queen Kurt. :)

“Are you going to read to me?” Kurt asked as he studied the charm.

“Yes,” Sebastian said. “In some other universe where we’re horrifyingly vanilla.”

“Well . . . you could read Fifty Shades of Grey. That would constitute torture.”

“Cruel and unusual,” Sebastian said with a shudder. “Besides, that way we’d both have to suffer. No, tonight I’ll be torturing you –and only you – in the usual way.”

“With a book?”

“With books.”

* * * * *

The books were stacked three high on each side. Kurt straddled the dildo stand, a foot on each stack. His hands were bound over his head with enough slack that his feet could touch the floor, if Sebastian moved the books away. A purple dildo was secured to the stand, its tip already seated in Kurt’s ass. The tip was no problem. Kurt was nothing if not a size queen. But the base of the dildo flared wide enough to make even him blanch. And he had no doubt that by the time Sebastian was done, his ass would be completely impaled. Just the thought had Kurt sweating, but at the same time the challenge of it excited him. He was a size queen, after all.

His cock was caged, with the little bullet vibe buzzing away against the bars. If he came tonight, it would be thoroughly ruined. But Kurt had begun to find a headspace where whether or how he came seemed immaterial. Kurt had come full circle in this odd Advent exercise. His fundamental rules remained the same. He would experience what Sebastian wanted him to experience. He would obey and endure. The only difference was, during these little exercises he wasn’t forbidden to come. But Kurt had managed to divorce himself from the emotions associated with orgasming. His body would do what it was made to do. Kurt would enjoy it or not. But in the end, it was about letting Sebastian control the things over which Kurt had given him control.

“That’s enough adjusting I think,” Sebastian said. He bent down and tapped one of Kurt’s ankles. Kurt wrapped the slack in the chain around his hand and picked up his foot. One thick textbook slid away, then Sebastian repeated the routine on the other side.

For a few moments Kurt managed to hold himself by arm strength alone, but he was destined to lose that battle in the end. He moaned as he slid further down the dildo until his toes rested on the next books in the stacks.

“And you thought,” Kurt gasped as his body struggled to adjust to the new girth in his ass, “you’d never find a use for those old textbooks.”

Sebastian hefted one of the books. “Fundamentals of Architecture is way more fun now than it was when I actually had to learn from it. How’s that ass feeling?”

“I barely . . . notice it.”

Sebastian laughed. “You do love being stuffed. In that case . . .” He bent down and repeated the book-removing procedure.

Kurt couldn’t help whining as he slid still further down the impaling dildo. Sweat trickled down his temples and the small of his back; the tickle made him shiver, which only reinforced how full he was. His cock was trying to break the cage, leaking long strings of pre. He struggled to catch his breath before the next onslaught.

When Sebastian removed the last two books, Kurt had to bite down on a sob. The dildo felt like it was splitting him in two. His toes touched the floor and he stiffened his legs, holding himself like a ballerina. There was just a tiny bit more give in the chain that held his hands up. Theoretically, he could put his feet flat on the floor. It might kill him to do it, though.

“Still enjoying yourself?” Sebastian asked with a leer.

“Peachy,” Kurt made himself reply. He was so not peachy. They both knew that. But apparently he had a weird and very self-destructive stubborn pride about how much his ass could take.

“Well, you’re not all the way down yet. We’ve got to get those heels on the floor. Clock doesn’t start until you’re fully seated. I think this might help.” Sebastian rummaged in their toy box and came up with a long, pointed feather. “I know how much you love to be tickled.”

Kurt hated to be tickled. And he’d never been able to come from it. If Sebastian used the feather Kurt was going to be stuck on this dildo from hell for the full twenty-four minutes. That wasn’t happening. He forced his heels to the ground, groaning as the dildo spread him open even farther. When his feet were finally flat he hung from the chain, panting hard, but seated exactly as Sebastian had demanded. His ass throbbed, his cock ached, but he could do this. He could stand here until pain and the vibe made his dick spill. He had no idea how he was going to get _off_ the damned thing, but that could be Sebastian’s problem.

Sebastian stalked closer to him, feather still in hand.

“I’m on!” Kurt panted. “You said . . .”

“I said the feather would help you get down. I didn’t say I wouldn’t use it once you got down. Get ready, bitch. This is where the real torture begins.”

* * * * *

When it was over Kurt was crying, gasping for breath, and in more pain than he could wrap his head around. His balls had never felt so hard and his cock was pushing obscenely through the bars of its cage. He sobbed with relief when Sebastian dropped the feather and kissed him hard. And despite everything, Kurt kissed back.


	13. Sleeping Bag

They didn’t own a bondage bag.

“A sleeping bag, huh? Another fail in the kink charm department, I assume?” Kurt asked as Sebastian zipped him into the sack he must have borrowed.

“I really should gag you,” Sebastian replied.

“You always say that, yet you never do.”

Sebastian grinned as he tightened the last of the straps that ran down the length of the bag. “For some reason, I enjoy the things that come out of that smart mouth of yours. Verbal and non-verbal.”

Kurt tried to make a smart comeback but his breath stuck in his throat as Sebastian moved on to the straps that held the bag itself to the bed. Nothing was too tight. Nothing hurt, but Kurt was starting to realize he’d never been tied up exactly this way before. He couldn’t move. He literally couldn’t move anything below his neck. He was trussed, mummified, and the realization of how vulnerable that made him hit him all at once like a brick to the solar plexus.

“Look at me, bitch.”

He sought and found Sebastian’s green eyes.

Sebastian took a long, slow inhale. “Breathe with me. Come on.” In and out. Kurt followed suit, once, twice. “Wiggle your toes,” Sebastian commanded, and Kurt found that he could. He tested his fingers, which moved as well. Somehow it helped to know he at least had that.

“Good, bitch,” Sebastian said.

“It’s new,” Kurt managed.

“Exactly. You need to let go. It’ll be so much nicer once you do.”

“Promise?”

Sebastian laughed gently. “See. You’re already doing it. Let go.”

Kurt closed his eyes. He took another slow, deep breath.

He’d never been bound like this before. Every other form of bondage had some give, somewhere. Every other sort of bondage left him little areas of agency, to twist or thrust or pull against. Belted into the sack, with the sack belted to the bed, Kurt’s arms were pressed hard to his sides, his legs tied tight together, and the whole of him was fastened to the bed. He was helpless.

He breathed.

Helpless. Free. They were two sides of the same bondage. Trussed so tightly, nothing could be expected of him. There was no part of his body he had to control. Not even his dick, because it was Christmas. Sebastian would do whatever he wanted to Kurt’s body and Kurt would be perfect under his hands because there was nothing else in the world he could be. He was an object. The object of Sebastian’s desire. Free from obligations. Free to feel. Free.

“There we go,” Sebastian’s voice came from above him. “Isn’t that better?”

“Hmmmm.”

He heard Sebastian laugh again, then the zippers over his nipples pulled open and cool air caressed his skin.

“Nice, deep breath bitch.”

Kurt obeyed.

When the clamp bit down he tried to jerk, tried to lift his arm to protect himself, but he didn’t budge so much as a centimeter. The bag held fast. When the second clamp closed on his other nipple he moaned and fell deeper into the bed.

The third zipper was over his cock and Sebastian went for that next, opening it and pulling Kurt’s cage out through the hole. Kurt felt the warmth of Sebastian’s hands, then cool air again as his cage slipped away. He wasn’t hard, he realized dimly. All the releases of the past week or so must have finally left it spent.

Of course, Sebastian wasn’t having any of that. He fisted Kurt’s cock and stroked it long and slow, with enough lube to make it just this side of too much friction. It began to fill and stiffen; Kurt’s cock was even more obedient to Sebastian than Kurt was. Kurt heard tiny noises coming from his own throat.

“You like this?” Sebastian asked, stroking.

“It’s so good, god, so good Master,” Kurt paused for his long, slow inhale, “thank you, fuck, thank you . . .”

“I am so buying one of these bags,” Sebastian said with a laugh. “Now that I have this beautiful cock’s attention, we can get down to business.”

Kurt didn’t open his eyes. He didn’t want to know. He didn’t need to know. He was immaterial.

He gasped when the cold sound tickled the slit of his cock.

He’d been sounded before, but it wasn’t a way they played very often. The sensation, the stretch of that steel rod pressing against his slit made Kurt feel like he’d felt the first time he put something bigger than his finger in his ass. It felt dangerous, and scary, and like everything he ever wanted. It left him hollow-legged, like he was drunk, like the energy drained out of all of his muscles and he fell even deeper into the sack as the sound slipped lower, stroking the impossibly sensitive tissue inside his cock . . . _inside_ . . . it dropped so deep it seemed to tease his prostate, then pulled up again, fucking him, fucking his cock, Sebastian’s cock . . .

“Oh, you like that, do you bitch?”

“Yes,” Kurt breathed, helpless to dissemble.

“Yes what?”

Kurt’s balls clenched as the sound made another trip deep into his cock. “Yes, Master.”

“I’m going to be so nice to you tonight, bitch. This is it. Me fucking your cock. Twenty-four minutes or until you come. But be warned, I’m not taking the sound out if you do.”

Kurt moaned. He didn’t want to come. He just wanted to feel this, forever, locked down at Sebastian’s mercy, Sebastian, who didn’t know the meaning of the word mercy. He wanted to die here with Sebastian fucking his cock with the steel rod, stroking him in places no one had ever touched. Every slide of the sound left him breathless and it was okay, now, it was good, Kurt was flying under the skilled hands of his own personal tormenting demon.

It went on for a long time, forever, but still not long enough. Eventually the pleasure began to peak. Kurt didn’t try to hold back. He wasn’t in charge. He was in Sebastian’s hands, to feel what Sebastian wanted him to feel. He whimpered as his orgasm clenched in his balls, moaned as it slowly, achingly, crested until he exploded in blissful pleasure . . .

Except.

Except even as his cock was bursting with the ecstasy of release, the sound held it in, forced it back, and Kurt’s balls clenched on crushing pain. He gasped as it overtook him, pleasure in one place, torture in another, crying out, trying to arch up off the bed but the bag and the belts still held him, helpless, until he was gurgling and trembling and trying to remember how to . . .

“Breathe, bitch.”

Sebastian’s hand landed firm between his clamped nipples and Kurt obeyed because he had no choice.

Pain seared again as the clamps were pulled away. Kurt hissed, tried to arch again, failed again. He was glad, this time. The bag held him tight.

“God,” Sebastian’s voice came from above him, “you never stop surprising me. That was . . . fucking incredible. Let me clean up the mess and I’ll get you out of there.”

Kurt whined.

“What is it, bitch?”

It was hard to talk. Kurt’s words felt like they had to climb through molasses to escape. “Can I . . . little bit . . . stay?”

Sebastian laughed. “Amazon dot com. First thing tomorrow morning. Looks like there’s going to be one more present under our tree.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Believe it or not, you CAN actually buy bondage bags on Amazon. I know. I checked.


	14. Paintbrush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nice and short tonight because it's been a busy day and I needed a short one!

On the morning of the thirteenth, Sebastian woke Kurt up early, took his cock out of the cage, and edged him. Twice.

When Sebastian came home from school he released Kurt again, edged him, and left him free and hard to make dinner. He was edged again before they ate. And after.

Sebastian had apparently decided that edging Kurt was the best way to combat any fatigue his cock might be feeling. Kurt didn’t tell him that he felt . . . maybe not as horny as ever, but very much as submissive as ever in this new dynamic despite the attention his cock was getting. He’d found his way through the drop to a place where he could appreciate the challenges of Sebastian’s Advent adventure, while still being happy that it was temporary.

In any case, by the time they opened the night’s calendar door, Kurt’s cock was, if not at its pre-advent level of desperation, at least very, very interested in what Sebastian had in store for it that night.

“Hmmm. Body painting?” Kurt guessed, holding up the paintbrush charm.

“That is definitely an idea I’m filing away for future reference,” Sebastian said. “But no.”

* * * * *

The “paintbrush” was really a stiff, spiked brush made of some kind of metal. Sebastian attached it to the same stand he’d used for the dildo predicament, adjusted so that Kurt’s cock could just rest on the sharp metal bristles. Kurt’s arms were cuffed behind his back, his nipples were clamped, and the heavy weight encircled his scrotum. Sebastian, also naked for once, stood behind him, stroking his belly and tweaking his nipple clamps.

“The clock doesn’t start until you start humping the brush,” Sebastian said.

“It’s . . . I won’t come. I’ve had . . .” He’d had too many releases, Kurt wanted to say. Pain alone wasn’t enough to make him come anymore. After a long lockup, sure. When his cock was starved for sensation. But he’d had so much sensation that, even with the edgings, he wasn’t going to be able to push himself over the edge on this particular instrument of torture.

“I’m sorry. Did I say anything about this being contingent on you coming?”

“You said I could stop if I came.”

“So you won’t stop. You’ll hump it for twenty-four minutes,” Sebastian said, pulling on the nipple clamps until Kurt hissed with pain. “Whether you can come or not doesn’t make any difference to me. I can’t imagine why you think it would.”

“I’m . . . sorry.”

“You’re going to be, in twenty-four minutes. Get moving bitch.” Sebastian’s hard cock rutted against the crease of Kurt’s ass as Kurt pushed his own over the harsh bristles.

Sebastian came at eighteen minutes. Kurt was crying by then, forcing himself to move in long, slow thrusts, dragging the harsh bristles all along the length of his cock. He had the briefest of respites when Sebastian pulled him close and released across his buttocks, but then Sebastian growled “Six more minutes,” in Kurt’s ear and pushed him back toward the brush. Kurt bit his lip and slid his abraded skin over the bristles again.

He didn’t come. He was still trying to force back tears, hating himself for his weakness, when Sebastian called time.

“Poor bitch,” he said, inspecting Kurt’s dick. “I bet you can’t wait for me to ice this baby down tonight.”

“Oh god, please,” Kurt begged.

Sebastian tilted Kurt’s head down so he could see the smears on the floor where Sebastian’s come had dripped and pooled. “You have to clean up before I put you away.”

And the irony was, Kurt could have come then, with the humiliation eating at his guts, groveling obediently on the floor, licking up Sebastian’s mess. But it was too late. He’d missed his chance. The most he could hope for was enough ice to numb the pain that throbbed all along the underside of his cock.

“Perfect bitch,” Sebastian said as Kurt crawled at his feet. “Perfect.”


	15. Whip

“I dreamt about you last night,” Kurt confessed while Sebastian was edging him on Friday morning.

“I remember the days when you wouldn’t have been capable of speech while I was touching your dick.” Sebastian said with a wistful sigh.

“It was your idea to make me come all month.”

“Point taken.” Sebastian squinted up at Kurt from between his spread legs. “Okay, what did you dream?”

“I dreamt it was Christmas day, and you locked me up and told me the cage wasn’t coming off for at least six months. And I cried.” Kurt hadn’t meant to admit that last part, but Sebastian’s hand felt so good, but not good enough, and he could remember a time when just the thought of Sebastian touching his cock gently like this could have brought him to the edge.

“From happiness?” Sebastian asked, grinning.

“It was more like . . . relief.”

Sebastian held Kurt’s gaze for a moment, then laughed and shook his head. “Awesome,” he said and returned his attention to the task at hand.

* * * * *

“You managed to find a whip charm?” Kurt asked breathlessly. Just holding the charm set his heart racing. He’d opened himself to Sebastian’s can-he-or-can’t-he scheme, truly, but the idea of a straightforward, punishing whipping made his legs feel as wobbly as a newborn giraffe’s.

“On a horsey website, of all things. Apparently if you ride it’s perfectly acceptable to put a whip on your charm bracelet. Who knew? I don’t understand normal people.” Sebastian dug in their bottom drawer as he spoke. “Aha!” he cried, and pulled out their heavy leather flogger.

The sight of the flogger would normally make Kurt’s cock drip, but things were so topsy-turvy in this new paradigm that Kurt’s cock hardly moved, but his mouth watered and his heart galloped even faster. He knew exactly how that leather would feel, walloping his shoulders or ass, force ricocheting through his body and driving out all rational thought. The moment he saw it, he wanted it. He was dizzy with how much he wanted it.

“How does a good beating sound to you, bitch?”

“Like Christmas,” Kurt replied with a smile.

“Have I mentioned how much I love what this whole thing is doing to you?” Sebastian held the whip out to Kurt, handle-first. “Hold it while I get ready.”

Kurt complied. He watched Sebastian move the stand – the same one that had held the dildo and the evil brush – in front of the wall and attach their fleshlight at the height of Kurt’s pelvis. Kurt’s cock was still sore as fuck from the night before, but Sebastian poured so much lube into the sleeve that he knew it would slide like silky heaven.

“You enjoying that?” Sebastian asked when he was done.

Kurt must have looked as puzzled as he felt. Sebastian grinned and nodded at the whip. Kurt looked down and realized he was stroking the leather tails, like a beloved pet. He stopped, and let the tails fall, but it was too late. Sebastian had already seen and wouldn’t forget. He snagged the flogger from Kurt’s hand and moved him to face the wall.

“Here’s how this is going down tonight, bitch. Your hands go on the wall. Your dick goes in the fleshlight. As long as you fuck it, I’ll beat you. I’m beating you for the full twenty-four minutes, whether you come or not. But tonight,” Sebastian leaned close so his lips brushed Kurt’s ear, making him shiver, “tonight I want you to come. So don’t disappoint me, bitch. The happier you make me, the harder I’ll hit you.”

Sebastian stepped back and brushed the tails of the flogger over Kurt’s shoulders. Kurt moaned. He wanted to make Sebastian happy. He wanted to make him fucking ecstatic.

“Go,” Sebastian commanded, and the tails cracked against Kurt’s left shoulder, propelling him into motion.

True to his word, Sebastian didn’t hold back. He started hard and got harder, wailing on Kurt’s shoulders, his ass, his thighs. His lashes synchronized with Kurt’s thrusts; when they fell on his ass they seemed to shove him into the fleshlight in a dance of pleasure and pain that made Kurt’s head swim. When he fucked faster, Sebastian hit harder, so he pistoned into the slippery sleeve, mindlessly chasing, not an orgasm, but the next brutal lash.

The crash, the sting, the wet slide into the toy – it merged into a collage of sensation that left Kurt moaning freely and incapable of thought. The blankness in his head was heaven. He felt wiped clean, light as air. The burn of the whip purified him. No matter how hard Sebastian punished his body, he wanted more, and more.

At some point Kurt came. He didn’t feel it as anything distinct in the kaleidoscope of sensation Sebastian was giving him. He knew because his thrusts into the sleeve suddenly brought a new, sharper pain, but he forced himself to keep moving so that Sebastian wouldn’t stop whipping him. The burn in his ass and shoulders and dick spread like fog, blanketing him.

“Ten more seconds, bitch,” he eventually heard Sebastian say. “Nine . . . eight . . .”

Kurt slammed his soft cock into the sleeve as Sebastian counted down. The pain had become its own kind of ecstasy and he wanted more, more, always more.

“. . . two . . . one.” Sebastian dropped the flogger and caught Kurt as he collapsed. Somehow, Kurt ended up on the floor without ever feeling the pull of gravity. Sebastian’s jeans and shirt were like broken glass against his back but he nestled into Sebastian’s arms anyhow, gasping and whimpering little wounded animal sounds.

“Fuck, bitch.” Sebastian was panting from his own effort, but he made _bitch_ sound like the most tender of endearments. “That was insane. You are completely fucking crazy and I love it so much.”

Kurt wanted to tell Sebastian he felt the same way, about Sebastian and what he did, but he was far, far away from being able to turn thoughts into words. He let Sebastian hold him, and floated.


	16. Horse

“Shouldn’t the horse have come _before_ the whip?” Kurt asked.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to be smart, bitch.”

Sebastian had a point. Kurt was at present straddling a punishment horse Sebastian had borrowed from . . . probably the same person who’d provided the bondage bag. The horse was much less pleasant. It was a pair of sawhorses with a rail between them shaped like an inverted triangle. The point of the triangle had been rounded off – “to make it safer,” Sebastian had said to Kurt’s alarm – but it still pressed painfully into Kurt’s balls. If Kurt stayed high on his tiptoes it was bearable. But after just minutes his calves were starting to burn.

Sebastian had positioned him at the very end of the horse, not straddling the middle like Kurt had expected. His hands were bound above his head, attached to the ceiling with just enough give that it was useless trying to hold himself up that way. His cock was free, and well-primed by Sebastian’s new edging routine. It jutted out from the end of the horse, reaching for Sebastian.

“So this is it?” Kurt asked when Sebastian didn’t start his usual “twenty-four minutes” spiel. “I just fight this thing for twenty-four minutes? Because I guarantee it won’t make me come.” He clenched his ass in an effort to take some of the strain off his legs, but it didn’t help.

Sebastian smiled. “I’m the one who’s going to make you come, bitch. I have such a special treat for you. You’re going to be riding that horse like John Travolta in Urban Cowboy.”

“Am I supposed to know what you’re talking about?” Kurt tried for snooty, but spoiled it by grunting as his legs gave out, putting all his body weight on his balls as he scrambled to stretch his cramping muscles and get his toes back under him.

Sebastian smiled at his struggle and began to undress.

Kurt forgot his own predicament momentarily. Sebastian didn’t strip for him. It was always very much the other way around. But here he was, putting on a bit of a show, really, as he shed his pullover, his jeans, and slipped out of his dark briefs. His cock sprang up stiff and eager and Kurt’s, which had flagged a bit from the pain of smashing his balls, was fully hard by the time Sebastian fixed Kurt with that fucking evil, predatory grin and began to smear lube all along his own thick length.

Kurt tried shifting his weight, to give each leg a short break in turn, but he mostly managed to bang his balls against the wood he was trying to avoid resting on. He froze, though, when Sebastian moved closer, and still closer, until his slippery cock touched Kurt’s over the end of the horse. Kurt held his breath and stared down at them. It was a sight he’d never seen, a sensation he’d never felt. Both their cocks, free and hard, touching, as if they were equals, equally entitled to be hard and pleasured. He couldn’t stop staring. His dick was a little longer, Sebastian’s a little thicker, but both beautiful, or so it seemed to Kurt.

Then Sebastian wrapped his lubed hand around both their cocks, holding them together. “We can come together, if you want,” Sebastian said and the breath Kurt had been holding rushed out in a gasp. “Just like this.” Sebastian pulled back and thrust, sliding his cock against Kurt’s. “But you have to do the work. If you can stand it. You fuck my fist just like this. If I come first, you lose, and you finish out the twenty-four minutes. If you come first, you finish me off and you’re done. Or you could just stand there and pray your legs don’t give out.”

Like that was going to ever happen. Kurt still couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. His cock, and Sebastian’s. Rubbing together. Making Sebastian come. _With his cock_. It was crazy and he wanted it like he could hardly remember wanting anything ever before.

The catch, of course, was the horse. To thrust into the circle of Sebastian’s fist, Kurt was going to have to smash his balls against the wooden wedge. Over and over and over again.

Sebastian thumbed at the timer on his phone then tossed it onto the bed. “Clock’s running, bitch.”

Kurt did it. Of course he did it. There was no scenario in which he wouldn’t sacrifice his balls for this, this gorgeous slide of his own cock along Sebastian’s. Their flesh, _that_ flesh, touching, pleasing. He lowered himself down on the wedge and rocked, gingerly, at first. Pain bloomed in his balls and grew heavy in his belly as he leaned back then thrust up into Sebastian’s fist.

He wanted to go slow, but the feeling, the slide of his own hard length along Sebastian’s, it was too much. Physically, psychologically, emotionally. He had to go faster, his cock demanded it. His hands grappled at the chain that held them over his head and he found a tiny bit of purchase, enough to help him establish a rhythm. He wanted to look up and see how this, how _he_ was affecting Sebastian but he couldn’t take his eyes off the image of their two erections rubbing and sliding in Sebastian’s hand. If it wasn’t for the grounding agony in his balls, Kurt would have been certain he was dreaming.

He lost time, hypnotized by the sight of them, locked together, straining in tandem. Pain became a haze, hot and amorphous, but the heat of pleasure was sharp and present.

“Oh, nice job, bitch.” Sebastian’s voice was tight with his arousal. “I hope this is good for you because I’m already getting close.”

Kurt _had_ to look up then, he had to see Sebastian’s face. Those sparkling green eyes were fixed on him, intense but also soft with pleasure. He could see Sebastian’s breathing speed up as he approached his edge and Kurt rocked harder; he shoved his balls down into the wood and forced his screaming muscles to thrust against Sebastian with everything he had. He had to come before he made Sebastian come. He was putting his last bit of endurance into this sprint to orgasm. If Sebastian came first Kurt would have nothing left to keep him upright and finish his ride.

Sebastian’s forehead touched Kurt’s, his soft, gasping lips so close.

“Please . . .” Kurt begged as his pleasure began to peak and the horse battered his balls, “. . . wait for me . . . I want it . . . god I want you . . .”

“Come on, bitch. Make us both come.”

Kurt was in too much pain to move any faster but he did, he rutted their cocks together, he felt himself reach that edge and fall over but he didn’t stop to enjoy his release. His orgasm was nothing without Sebastian’s. His cock spurted and hot come dripped between them, adding to the slide.

“Fuck . . .” Sebastian murmured and he came, he _came_ , and Kurt could feel his master’s cock throb against his own and he kept fucking, even though his own cock was softening, and it hurt, more hurt, but he rocked Sebastian through his orgasm and when Sebastian’s come mingled with his own Kurt heard a sound, a cry of triumph that must have come from him because Sebastian never made noise.

Sebastian’s arms wrapped around Kurt and lifted him off the horse, and Kurt locked his exhausted legs around Sebastian’s waist and held on. They stayed like that for the longest time, both still breathing hard, their cocks softening against each other. Kurt eventually realized he was mouthing at Sebastian’s neck and shoulder, kissing, sucking, trying to draw himself as close to Sebastian as he could possibly get.

“God I’m so proud of you,” Sebastian whispered, so quietly that Kurt’s panting might have drowned it out. But it didn’t.

It wasn’t the kind of thing Sebastian usually said. It wasn’t the kind of thing Kurt usually needed or even wanted to hear. He didn’t do this so Sebastian would be proud. It was patronizing and infantilizing and Kurt hated both those things. He pressed his lips to Sebastian’s shoulder so he wouldn’t beg him to say it again, just one more time.


	17. Footstool

Sebastian knew exactly what Kurt would need after the intimacy, unexpected even for Sebastian, of the horse. He’d moved their stone coffee table out of the way and installed Kurt in its place. He was positioned on hands and knees, dick caged, prostate massager seated in his ass buzzing hard against just the right spot. Sebastian had his feet resting on top of Kurt’s ass and a wide-based tumbler of iced tea on his shoulder. On the floor just under Kurt’s face was the day’s charm: an actual tiny three-legged stool cast in silver that Sebastian had been ecstatic to find.

A shiver traveled through Kurt’s body. Sebastian picked up the flogger and rubbed the tongue over Kurt’s balls. “Stay still, bitch. I know you don’t want me punishing these after last night. And not a sound out of you. Furniture doesn’t make noise.”

Kurt’s shoulders tensed as he clamped down on another shudder, but Sebastian cut him some slack for that. He leaned closer and poked at the end of the prostate massager, just to make sure it was in the right place. Kurt’s breath hitched in time with Sebastian’s little thrusts, but he didn’t voice his distress so Sebastian let that go too.

He’d chosen the massager instead of the orange vibe because he’d thought Kurt’s cock might need a little extra encouragement to spill from inside the cage, after all the releases it had had the past couple of weeks. But as soon as he’d inserted it precome had begun to drip from the end of the cage and Kurt had thrust and moaned freely until Sebastian had positioned him and commanded him to be still. He could only guess that Kurt’s poor dick was coming to expect release now, jumping to attention at the mere sight of the Advent calendar, like a dog excited for the leash.

Sebastian picked up his glass and took a sip, then set it back down in a different spot on Kurt’s back. Kurt’s ass cheeks flexed at the sudden cold in a new place, but again he suppressed any sound or voluntary movement. That wouldn’t do. Sebastian needed to make this interesting. He picked up the remote for the massager and set it to “random.” Then he leaned back to enjoy the sheen of sweat on Kurt’s fair skin, and the sensation of his bitch trembling under his feet.

Eventually, Kurt’s breathing sped up, hitching hard, and the tiniest of grunts escaped his throat. Sebastian didn’t have to look to know that he was coming, if you could call it that. Before he could recover from the ruined orgasm, Sebastian slapped his balls hard with the crop, punishment for the unauthorized noise. Kurt froze. He stopped trembling. He even stopped breathing as he put everything he had into not reacting to the agony seizing his body.

“Breathe, bitch,” Sebastian commanded.

Air came out of Kurt’s mouth in a long, slow, excruciatingly careful exhalation.

Sebastian checked his phone. Only fourteen minutes had passed. “I’m pretty comfortable here, bitch,” he told Kurt. “I think we’re going to go the full twenty-four tonight. I know you came but . . . I make the rules, don’t I?” He turned the massager down to a medium high setting that would batter Kurt’s oversensitive insides without actually setting him up for failure, and teased his balls with the tongue of the crop again, just as a reminder that the rules were still in force. Sweat beaded and ran between Kurt’s shoulder blades, but he held still, like a good footstool.

Sebastian turned on the television and clicked to ESPN. He knew Kurt well enough to know that would be the cruelest torture of all.


	18. Pinwheel

Monday’s charm was a pinwheel. The kind you get at the fair, and blow on to make it spin around. Sebastian was pretty sure Kurt knew right away that they weren’t going to be blowing on plastic all night.

He tied Kurt spread-eagle on the bed, nice and tight. He liberated Kurt’s cock from the cage, but didn’t stroke it. For the moment it lay soft on Kurt’s thigh. That was exactly how Sebastian wanted it, for now.

He also blindfolded Kurt with a satin sleep mask. Sebastian didn’t use blindfolds often. He loved to see the changing colors and emotions in Kurt’s eyes. But the loss of sight would enhance the sensations Sebastian wanted to create for Kurt. And they also gave Sebastian a kind of freedom that he didn’t usually get. He was a dominant through and through, but even he could admit from time to time it was nice to let his feelings show on his face, without worrying about how Kurt’s overactive brain would interpret those feelings.

He started at Kurt’s foot. Sebastian had no idea how Kurt managed to have elegant feet – no one had elegant feet. But Kurt always defied expectations and Sebastian had to admit that elegant they were. Which only made them more fun to torment with wicked spiked rollers. Even though he knew what was coming, Kurt jerked as the pinwheel’s spokes inched along his instep. That was fine. Sebastian hadn’t made any rules about movement or noise tonight. Kurt could be as noisy as he liked. Sebastian hoped he would be.

“Think you can come from this, bitch?” he asked Kurt.

“On my foot? No.”

“What about when I get to your cock?”

Kurt didn’t speak, probably because the pinwheel was pricking across his toes.

“I asked you a question bitch.”

“I don’t know!” Kurt gasped. “I don’t think so?”

“Good. That gives me more time to play.”

Kurt’s cock twitched against his leg.

For a minute, Sebastian just let himself look. In their relationship it was Kurt who did the worshiping, of course, but despite his dominance, Sebastian could easily have worshiped Kurt’s body. There was no question he was in awe of it. The things it could do; the punishment it could take. The way it bent and twisted into whatever shapes Sebastian commanded. The subtle strength, only hinted at until Kurt was fighting some crazy stress position. Kurt’s body was Sebastian’s playground and the ultimate expression of his creative dominance. Plus it was fucking beautiful.

“Sebastian?”

Sebastian realized he’d let the pinwheel go still. “Don’t rush me, bitch,” he said. “I’m enjoying the view.” But he applied himself to the pinwheel again, rolling it slowly up Kurt’s leg to the crease of his thigh. Kurt sucked in a breath as the spokes dug into his skin. The long points on the toy didn’t break the skin, but Sebastian knew it absolutely felt like they were. He teased Kurt’s groin before working his way up over Kurt’s ribs to his chest.

Kurt whined when Sebastian circled one areola, and cried out when the wheel skittered over his erect nipple. Sebastian went over the hard bud several times, just to hear Kurt gasp and whimper, and then toyed with the other one, until Kurt’s cock began to fill like a flower in time-lapse photography, blooming jerk by jerk. Of course, once that dick was hard Sebastian couldn’t resist it. Kurt’s cock was Sebastian’s joy. He’d never understood dominants who loved to minimize their submissives’ dicks. He was as proud of Kurt’s cock as Kurt himself should be. More, maybe, because that beautiful organ submitted to him. It accepted his cage and his denial and all of his punishments; it came when he forced it to no matter how much it was abused, it suffered chastity that would try the fortitude of a monk, and it absolutely loved every minute. It was also a fantastic barometer for the man attached to it. Kurt could dissemble, but Kurt’s cock always told its master the absolute truth. Sebastian adored it.

And what Sebastian adored, Sebastian tortured. He avoided Kurt’s balls, because they were still suffering from their crushing on the horse – see, he could be merciful – but he rolled the pinwheel up Kurt’s cock, thoroughly enjoying Kurt’s muffled sounds of distress. Kurt knew the pinwheel wasn’t harming him, but the sensation was intense, especially when Sebastian teased the sharp points around the head and across Kurt’s slit. Merciful went out the window when it came to hurting his favorite toy.

“Are you _sure_ you can’t come from this?” he asked Kurt as precome surged from the very slit he was torturing.

Kurt didn’t respond – maybe he was too busy trying to breathe – but Sebastian already knew the answer. Of course he could come. Could and would, soon, if Sebastian didn’t back off. Sebastian checked his phone. Nineteen minutes left. He backed off.

Not far. He only retreated to the base of Kurt’s cock, circling it, threatening Kurt’s balls. Rolling up over the head every now and then with just enough pressure to make Kurt gasp. Enough to ensure Kurt stayed on edge until time was up.

He wasn’t sure whether he would force Kurt to come when time was up or leave him hanging, hungry and desperate. He would decide that in . . . seventeen minutes or so. For now he just wanted to worship his bitch’s body. With pain.


	19. Fried Egg

“Didn’t we already have an egg?” Kurt asked. “Are you recycling ideas?”

“That was a whole egg. Indicating the egg vibrator I used on your ass. This is a fried egg. And I’m going to make you pay for the suggestion that I lack imagination sufficient for this challenge.”

“You’re going to torture me with fried eggs?”

“I’m not going to torture you with fried eggs. I’m going to torture you by frying _your_ eggs.”

* * * * *

Now this, Sebastian thought, this was exactly the kind of thing he’d been thinking of the night before when he was appreciating Kurt’s body. In a stress position, all of Kurt’s lithe muscle flexed and stretched to hold himself, revealing a strength that was usually hidden. Sebastian was particularly proud of this predicament. Kurt was simply standing in the middle of their bedroom, not bound or twisted in any way. And yet he was shaking like a leaf, straining, sweat beading on his forehead and trickling down his sternum

Sebastian’s mercy for Kurt’s balls had been short. Tonight they were hooked up with electrodes, as was the head of his cock and down the shaft. He also had an electric probe in his ass, sparking right up against his prostate. For now, the intensity was set on low. For now.

Sebastian had given Kurt a plastic plate to hold up on each palm, like a waiter’s trays. He’d put a plastic tumbler of water on each plate.

“I’m loving this already,” Sebastian said.

“I’m glad one of us is,” Kurt said through gritted teeth.

“Please, look at that cock. It’s loving this, even if you’re not.”

“It’s a masochist,” Kurt grunted.

Sebastian just laughed. “I’m turning it up now, bitch. Twenty-four minutes. All you have to do is not spill the water. If you manage to come – without spilling of course – it’s all over. But if the water spills at any point, we start the clock over again.”

Kurt gasped. Sebastian ignored it and dialed up the intensity on the electro.

It was gorgeous to watch. Kurt’s cock jumped as the electricity coursed through it, and his ass clenched and released, the muscles firing automatically, beyond his control. He grunted with each pulse of his ass; he trembled and shuddered, but somehow he managed to keep the cups of water upright and full. It took enormous effort, especially when, every few minutes, Sebastian inched the electricity up higher. By fifteen minutes in Sebastian was amazed and pretty sure Kurt’s concentration was so intense that nothing external could reach him. Still, Sebastian stalked around behind Kurt and whispered by his ear, “I’m so fucking hard for you right now bitch. I can’t wait to pull that plug out and fuck you. Do you think your ass will still be spasming around my cock? Fuck, I hope it is. Can you imagine how much it’ll hurt after all this, when I slam into you? Take you up to the hilt and fuck you with no mercy?”

Kurt didn’t move. He didn’t make a sound. He didn’t demonstrate the slightest awareness of Sebastian’s nearness. But his cock spurted hard, shooting semen halfway to the bed.

Somehow, and Sebastian had no idea how, Kurt held those plates flat and still until the final dribbles of come trickled down his cock, and for a count of three thereafter. Then he collapsed. Water spilled everywhere, but Sebastian, ready as always, caught Kurt and lowered him to the floor. Somehow Kurt landed in position, knees curled under his body, convulsing ass up. He was whimpering sharply, and Sebastian hurried to switch off the electro. True to his word, he pulled the probe out of Kurt’s ass and pushed his own cock inside, hard, with no preparation other than the lube and stretch from the plug. Kurt’s ass _was_ still spasming and Sebastian pounded hard as Kurt cried out and pushed himself back to meet the cock reaming him.

When Sebastian came, he was sure he could still feel Kurt’s ass twitching. 


	20. Lariat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had too much eggnog tonight so I seriously hope this makes some kind of sense . . . I'm forging ahead in any case! ;)

The charm for the nineteenth of December was three lengths of braided silver, coiled around each other in an open circle with a knot at the top.

“It’s not a whip, is it?” Kurt asked.

“Are you accusing me of repeating myself?” Sebastian asked back.

“Maybe . . . hoping?”

“While I love how much you love being beaten, no.”

* * * * *

Sebastian took his time with the bondage. Partly because suspension bondage required care and attention to be safe, and partly because it was just fun to exercise his privilege and enjoy Kurt’s body in whatever way he chose.

He set up the suspension first. Kurt hung face up in a vee, with each wrist cuffed to the corresponding ankle, and both pairs attached to the ceiling via the strong points Sebastian had had installed in the bedroom ages ago. Because Sebastian was merciful, he angled the vee so that Kurt’s head could fall forward or back. He didn’t want his bitch getting too tired too soon. But he was still high enough that his ass was in perfect fucking position.

Kurt was tense at first. Suspension was one of those things that took him a while to assimilate, but once he did – Sebastian knew he really flew. So he didn’t feel bad at all taking his time with the rest of Kurt’s bondage. He could entertain himself during Kurt’s settling in time, then let Kurt entertain him when all the work was done.

He started with a hip harness, circling Kurt’s thighs and bringing the two lengths up the crack of Kurt’s ass, so that the soft cotton rope would – could – rub against Kurt’s hole, if he moved the right way. He also left just enough slack that he would be able to move the two lines out of the way, because what was the point of having his bitch hung up at cock height if he wasn’t going to fuck him?

“Give me a nice thrust, bitch.”

Kurt obediently rocked his hips, then moaned as the twin ropes slid across his hole. Getting to have orgasms and semi-orgasms hadn’t had any discernible impact on the sensitivity of Kurt’s ass, for which Sebastian was truly grateful.

“Feel good?” Sebastian asked, completely unnecessarily.

“Mmm-hmm,” Kurt hummed.

“Well knock yourself out. Maybe it’ll help you relax. You know you want to. You know you’re going to feel amazing once you let go.”

Kurt kept thrusting, stimulating himself. Sebastian smiled at the picture he made, then got back to work.

A chest harness came next, outlining Kurt’s pecs and rosy nipples. Then Sebastian connected the chest to the hips with some nice criss-cross work. The black rope looked beautiful against Kurt’s fair skin. He did a little gentle wrapping on Kurt’s upper arms and thighs, just for effect. Then he finally turned to Kurt’s cock.

The ass stimulation had his cock dripping and Sebastian smiled as he carefully wrapped a thinner strand of rope around and between Kurt’s balls, pulling them down and tying them off to each thigh. Then he added one more length, attached to the center of the chest harness, snaking down, just alongside Kurt’s straining cock, to the lines coming up from between his cheeks, crossing through and running back up to his chest again. When he finished, the two final lengths were just close enough to graze Kurt’s cock as he rocked to stimulate his hole. Whether it was enough to make him come, only the next twenty-four minutes would tell.

Sebastian stepped back to survey his masterpiece. Kurt Hummel, wrapped in soft black rope, straining to rub himself off on the bondage that held him. What could possibly be better than that?

“I’m going to fuck you in this, eventually,” he told Kurt. “Right now I just want to watch you struggle. Do you think you’ll come before time’s up?”

Kurt’s only response was a long, drawn out hum, that could have meant yes or no, but definitely meant Kurt had submitted to the ropes. On the one hand, Kurt in his headspace was far away from Sebastian, at the mercy of sensation alone. But on the other hand, Sebastian knew only he could bring Kurt to this place where there were no choices or expectations, only the mindless chase after pleasure that Sebastian may or may not allow.

For now Sebastian smiled, stroked himself, and waited to see what would happen next.


	21. Feather

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry guys! I did not plan on having a two-day hiatus! On Friday night I went out with some friends, fully planning to come home and write. But then I drank a bit more than I planned, and THEN I dropped my phone and cracked the screen, so I decided the universe was telling me to bag it and get some sleep. On Saturday evening I sat down to write and immediately my phone rang - it was my oldest friend calling me because her dad passed away, so we were on the phone for several hours (she lives far away) and I didn't write. I know you guys understand, but I wanted to let you know I'm back on track and fired up for the final stretch!

Kurt hated being at the mercy of objects. He was completely unambiguous about that. Sebastian knew that Kurt craved the personal touch – _his_ personal touch, of course. And Sebastian loved that too. There was nothing that could compare to controlling your submissive with your own hands. Sebastian imagined that dominating Kurt was like mastering a high-spirited thoroughbred. He’d had horsey friends growing up, and they would talk about things like sensitive mouths, delicate touches, response to the rein or whip. Well, maybe Sebastian had made up that whip part. But the point was, the words used to describe high-strung racehorses were just as apropos to a high-strung submissive. As was the sense of satisfaction at being the hand that could bring the magnificent creature to heel.

So yes, Sebastian loved the personal touch. But he had to confess he also loved the fun of watching Kurt at the mercy of some random, mindless object. That was at least partly due to how much Kurt hated it, of course. And the fact that part of the reason Kurt hated it was because it wasn’t Sebastian. It was a nice little circle of affirming feedback and Sebastian never minded a little affirmation.

On December twentieth, Sebastian had managed to combine the best of both worlds. Kurt stood in the middle of their bedroom, with his cuffed hands bound above him to the ceiling hook. Their widest spreader bar held his ankles so far apart that he needed the chain he hung from to help keep his balance. Fastened to the stand in front of Kurt, at cock height, was their Hitachi vibrator with its snug sheath attachment. Kurt’s cock, fluffed to full hardness by Sebastian himself, was seated in the sheath, already dripping with anticipation. Sebastian couldn’t help himself. He rubbed his thumb over the head, which just stuck out the far end of the latex.

“Sometimes I think I only tolerate you because your cock is such an obedient slave to me,” Sebastian teased Kurt.

“Gee, sometimes I think that’s the only reason I tolerate you,” Kurt retorted.

“Because your cock is my slave?” Sebastian asked. “Are you saying we’re just two contrarians who are only together because your cock is in love with me?” He polished Kurt’s crown hard with his thumb, and whatever answer Kurt might have made was lost in a gurgle of pain.

“We’re going to have a lot of fun tonight,” Sebastian said, grinning at his bound bitch. He flipped a switch on the vibrator, setting the sheath massaging the top third of Kurt’s shaft, including that lovely, sensitive spot just under the head. Kurt’s gurgle turned into a hum. That was good. Usually it took a while before Kurt would deign to voice his pleasure. If he was already this relaxed, it meant he was slipping into his headspace faster than usual.

“All you have to do is stand still,” Sebastian told Kurt. “Stand there and don’t move and the vibe will just buzz and buzz until you blow.”

Kurt regarded him with that hauteur that only Kurt could have managed to hold onto while drifting into subspace, strung up to the ceiling, fucking a sex toy. “And if I move?”

Sebastian smacked Kurt hard on the ass, causing him to thrust forward. Whether his outraged cry was from the slap or the shock of electricity surging through his dick, Sebastian wasn’t sure. He figured he’d find out soon enough though.

“Where do you find these evil engineers?” Kurt gasped.

Sebastian laughed. “I have a nose for talent. Now that you know what happens, I recommend you do your best to stand still.”

“Why do I think that’s going to be easier said than done?”

Sebastian gave one of Kurt’s nipples a sharp pinch to punish him for his insolence. Then he turned to the Advent calendar and opened the door numbered “20.” This was the fun part. The part that Sebastian would totally control.

“Of course,” Kurt groaned when Sebastian held up the feather-shaped charm.

“Of course,” Sebastian agreed with a grin.

* * * * *

Yes, okay, technically Sebastian was repeating himself by using the feather. Fortunately, Kurt was too busy cursing, laughing, crying, yelping, gasping, moaning, and howling to point that out. What he wasn’t doing was coming. It was the feather. The vibe could have made him come. The electro probably could have made him come as well. But tickling distracted him too much in the wrong way. And so at the end of twenty-four minutes his cock was red and dripping but still hard as a rock. When Sebastian finally dropped the feather Kurt hung in his bonds, panting hard, just trying to catch his breath. One harsh exhale hitched on a whine when Sebastian turned off the vibe.

“No more, bitch. I guess we’re going to need the ice tonight.”

“Sebastian,” Kurt gasped.

“Hmmm?” Sebastian stroked Kurt’s flushed cheek.

“Please . . . no more feather. Not again. Please.” His blue eyes were so full of desperation that Sebastian almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

“Oh come on, bitch. What kind of dom would I be if I made a promise like that?”


	22. Clothespin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little forewarning folks - my ass is sick. Sick for Christmas. Yippee. So . . . if I stay feeling like I feel right now, I'm pretty sure I'll be able to and even want to write. If I get worse, all bets are off!

Sebastian was much too gleeful about the tiny clothespin-shaped charm.

“Look! It actually works!” he said, squeezing it to demonstrate. “Imagine the fun we could have with that! Although not tonight. Tonight I have bigger plans.”

Kurt only sighed. Of course he did.

* * * * *

He was relieved that Sebastian chose tonight to bind him to the bed. Standing up, even suspended from the ceiling, required effort and awareness. On the bed Kurt could let go.

Sebastian bound his hands to the headboard above his head, but left his legs free. “I think tonight you’re going to need to move. Eventually,” he said as he fastened Kurt’s cuffs. “This is going to _hurt._ ”

And fuck if Kurt’s cock didn’t give a nice, happy throb at the prospect. It was so obvious, Sebastian laughed right out loud.

Kurt had expected clothespins – duh – but Sebastian had one more surprise in store for him. Instead of the usual tub of full-sized, loose pins, he produced a long string of them, all connected. A zipper. Designed to be applied in a line and then ripped off in one swift tear. Kurt hadn’t actually experienced a zipper before. His cock danced again. Sebastian sat down on the bed and patted it just a little too hard.

“That’s the spirit! You could learn a lot from this thing, bitch.”

“No doubt,” Kurt grumbled.

Sebastian rewarded him by fastening the first clothespin on his right nipple. He ignored Kurt’s gasp of pain and began to work his way down Kurt’s torso, fastening clothespins at regular intervals, and chatting as he went. “Tonight we change things up a little, bitch. There are twenty-four clothespins on the zipper. The timer started when that first one bit your nipple. Once they’re all attached, you’ll wear them for whatever time is left, while I entertain myself.”

He didn’t elaborate on what entertaining himself meant, but Kurt had some ideas. With his legs free, it was hard not to hope he’d be fucked.

“At the twenty-four minute mark, I pull off the pins, and you come or not. The only choice you have to make is whether you want to know when the time is up or be . . . surprised.”

Sebastian had arrived at Kurt’s scrotum and pinched a pin onto the top of one side of his sac. Kurt’s reply was lost in a heavy groan, and he was given no chance to recover his breath as Sebastian pinned up one side of Kurt’s cock and down the other, then the other side of his sac, before he started making his way up Kurt’s left side. Once the final clothespin tightened on Kurt’s left nipple, Sebastian dragged his hands along the pins, enjoying, no doubt, the way Kurt arched up off the bed as pain sang in so many different places at once.

“Legs up, bitch. I’m fucking you now.”

Thank god – or Sebastian – for small favors.

Kurt moaned as Sebastian pushed his legs up, stretching some of the pins, compressing others, and slid into his waiting hole.

“I don’t,” he said when Sebastian bottomed out.

“Don’t what?”

“I don’t want to know when time’s up.”

“Good choice, bitch,” Sebastian said as he fucked.

Being fucked while free of the cage was still rare enough that Kurt was pushed to the edge quickly, and had to work to hold back the release his cock had come to expect. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to come before Sebastian ripped off the zipper, but he knew that however painful that moment would be, it would be exponentially worse if he wasn’t heavily aroused. He very quickly began to wish he’d asked Sebastian to tell him when it was time. Sebastian kept plucking at the end of the cord that held the pins together, teasing that moment then dropping it, forcing Kurt to swing between striving for release and desperately trying to stave it off. Eventually, of course, Kurt forgot it all and just lost himself in the sensation of his master fucking him. Even with this crazy month of releases, Kurt’s ass still craved Sebastian’s cock pretty much all the time. Being fucked by Sebastian broke him open and drove him deep into his headspace and of course it was at that moment when the last little part of his brain trying to hold back finally let go, that Sebastian thrust in hard, stilled, and pulled the end of the zipper, ripping all twenty-four pins off in quick succession. Kurt bucked and howled as pain tore a path down his body, up his dick, down and back up again, destroying the peace in his head and pushing him . . . right, right up to the edge. So fucking close, but not far enough. Somehow he was left dangling milliseconds from ecstatic release. One touch was all it would take. Half a thrust of Sebastian’s softening cock. Anything.

“Please . . .” he begged before he remembered to stop himself. “Oh god. Oh god I’m . . .”

And then Sebastian’s cock twitched and flopped out of Kurt’s hole. And Kurt felt himself fall, but with no other stimulation the explosion he expected fizzled and melted into a burning lump in his belly. His cock throbbed and dribbled a pathetic stream and Sebastian’s eyes went wide as Kurt panted and whined through the ruined orgasm.

“Okay, I’m officially impressed,” Sebastian said.

Kurt flopped back onto the bed, already starting to drift in the aftermath of . . . whatever had just happened.

“Alright bitch. Just rest. You definitely earned it this time.”


	23. Ice Cube

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry everyone! On Christmas eve I came down with the creeping crud and I was sick in bed the whole week between Christmas and New Year. And then just as I was getting better and catching up on everything I neglected while I was sick, there was a big crisis at the company I'm working for part time, and we had to deal with all kinds of crazy shit. I'm still dealing, but I'm forcing myself to take time to write too. Gotta set those boundaries! I'm going to finish these babies as soon as I can, and then get back to Sure of You. Yay for escaping into writing!

The ice cube charm was so wrong.

It was _cute_. The little Lucite cube had a painted-on smiley face. It had _earmuffs_. Hot pink earmuffs. There was glitter. It smiled up at Kurt with a maniacal happiness, like it could never imagine being associated with anything as kinky as what was going on at that moment.

Sebastian had found some kind of device that let him create a frozen tube for Kurt to fuck. A Fleshlight of ice, as it were. He’d mounted it on the oh-so-useful stand and ordered Kurt to fuck it. For twenty-four minutes. Or until he came, of course.

“This would be easier if you’d stop playing with that stupid charm,” Kurt groused as he shoved his dick into the clenching cold.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Am I distracting you?” Sebastian bounced the charm in front of Kurt’s face. “Look how cute he is though. I think we should name him. How about Frosty?”

Kurt groaned.

To make matters more interesting – according to Sebastian’s definition – the ice sheathe had been filled with a gently warming lube, which created a sense of heat and at least gave Kurt a fighting chance. If he could keep up enough friction the warmth of the lube might possibly, if he was lucky, insulate his cock enough that he could stay relatively hard. But if he thrust that hard and fast his balls, which were attached by a tight chain to the wall behind him – another of Sebastian’s “interesting” additions – felt like they were being ripped from his body.

Kurt grit his teeth and fucked the ice. “Frosty is a complete cliché,” he ground out.

“How about this? If you come, you can name it. If not, it’s Frosty.”

Kurt grunted. He could feel the cold triumphing over the lube. Any minute now his dick was going to go numb. He had no idea what Sebastian would make him do if he lost his erection.

“You could help me, you know,” he panted.

“Is that how you ask?” Sebastian said, flashing that infuriating little smile of his.

“Please help me?” Kurt managed to amend.

“Like this?” Sebastian put the cube down on the bed and pinched both of Kurt’s nipples hard. Kurt yelped at the sudden pain, but his cock rallied just enough that he could keep fucking the sleeve. Sebastian noticed, of course. “What do you say, bitch?” he asked, pinching again, harder.

“Thank you,” Kurt said as he picked up speed. He pushed himself as hard as his balls could stand. Sebastian abused his nipples, smacked his ass, even squeezed his stretched-out balls. Each new torment gave Kurt endurance to push on for a few minutes, but it was a losing battle. The few moments of pleasure he felt were always swiftly overtaken by the inescapable cold. The warming sensation from the lube gave way to an icy ache so intense that Kurt’s cock went soft even before numbness set in. Eventually it flopped out of the sheathe and fell to hang in defeat, cold against Kurt’s thigh.

“Well that’s disappointing,” Sebastian said, frowning at Kurt’s cock. “You still have twelve minutes left. How are you going to make up for failing me?”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Kurt said. He leaned back to ease the strain on his balls but Sebastian grabbed him by the shoulders and held him in place with his pelvis pressed against the ice.

“I think your balls are should to pay for you dick’s pathetic performance,” Sebastian said. He picked up the ice cube charm and made it dance in the air between them. “And Frosty agrees. Twelve minutes of cropping sounds about right. Don’t move.”

Free from the ice, with warmth seeping back in, Kurt’s cock actually twitched. Of course.


	24. Masks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still alive! For those of you not following along on tumblr, I had a crazy couple of months with a house guest, a crazy work thing, and a death in the family which meant navigating my family which is never fun. Writing took a huge back seat but I'm back and holding myself to a schedule, I swear! I will finish these last few Advents if it's the last thing I do! Thank you all for your patience!

“Comedy and tragedy?” Kurt asked. “So you’re going to be torturing me with a soliloquy from Coriolanus?”

Sebastian wrapped an arm around Kurt’s waist and pulled him close, planting a soft, warm kiss on his parted lips.

“What was that for?” Kurt asked, breathless, as always when Sebastian interrupted their kinky play with a tender gesture.

Sebastian’s eyes twinkled as he held Kurt against his body. “For managing to work the word “anus” into your totally off-the-cuff Shakespearean reference.”

“My brilliance knows no boundaries,” Kurt said saucily, earning himself another kiss from Sebastian.

“As it happens,” Sebastian said, pulling away and drawing Kurt by the hand toward the bed, “you’re the one who’s going to be doing the acting. Or not. It’ll be your choice.”

Kurt scrunched his face up in question, but Sebastian declined to elaborate. Instead, he handed Kurt up to the bed like he was royalty and, distracted by the consideration, Kurt abandoned confusion and settled back against the plumped-up pillows with all the hauteur of a _précieuse_ taking to her bed.

Sebastian sat by Kurt’s knees and pulled the cage key from where it hung around his neck. Kurt felt a pang when his cock didn’t so much as twitch. After these past few weeks of regular release and frequent _release_ , Kurt’s body no longer anticipated freedom like a rare treat.

Sebastian, of course, read his mind. “Stop worrying. Think about how it’s going to feel in a couple of weeks when it realizes the party’s over. We both know there’s never anything wrong with you that a couple weeks of chastity can’t fix.”

Was it wrong, Kurt wondered as Sebastian unlocked him, to find that comment sweet? Yes. It was. Or, if not wrong, at least deeply perverted. But, in the good way.

“What’s so funny?” Sebastian asked.

Kurt would have answered but then Sebastian fisted his cock and no amount of previous release could stop his cock – and the rest of his being – from responding to that.

Sebastian understood that too. He smiled and stroked – long slick slides that made Kurt’s breath stutter in his throat. Kurt’s eyes dropped closed, but opened again when Sebastian tightened his fingers around his cock.

“None of that, bitch,” Sebastian said. “You look right in my eyes and you don’t look away. If you take your eyes off mine, there will be consequences.” He shook Kurt’s cock, leaving no doubt what shape those consequences would take. “Tonight you get to show me what a good actor you are. Or not, if that’s your choice.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’m going to stroke you. Just like this.” Sebastian’s hand resumed the sliding strokes. “And I’m going to try to stop just at the perfect moment to ruin your orgasm. You don’t have to tell me when you’re close. You don’t have to say a word. You have my permission to come, if you’re a good enough actor to fool me. I’ll stroke you through it and I’ll even stop before it starts to hurt.” Sebastian smiled and thumbed over Kurt’s slit, a sensation so intense it left him dizzy. “If you get this right you can have one fully pleasurable orgasm. No clamps. No bondage. None of my infernal machines. Just my hand and your cock and a good old-fashioned shoot. When was the last time that happened?”

“Never,” Kurt gasped.

“Exactly. And all you have to do is fool me. If that’s what you want.” Sebastian fisted Kurt’s cock fast for a few strokes, building him higher, then went back to gentle and slow. His eyes were full of challenge, and Kurt, despite the way Sebastian’s hand was encouraging him to melt into a puddle of dripping goo, lifted his chin and met that challenge as best he could under the circumstances.

“Why wouldn’t I want that?”

Sebastian’s smile didn’t falter a bit. “Come on, bitch. We both know you’re dying to get back to your natural state.”

“And what would that be?” Kurt asked, with a long pause between _would_ and _that_ when Sebastian’s thumb made another circle of his crown and made Kurt’s breath rumble in his chest like a growl.

Sebastian laughed. “Used and denied, of course. Locked up, aching to just be touched, knowing you’re never going be allowed to come and begging me to fuck you anyway. Crawling at my feet like the gorgeous bitch that you are because you’re so fucking desperate you can barely think, completely lost in how badly you want to come and how viciously I’m going to tease you and deny you, over and over until you think you’re going to die from the . . .”

Pain shot through Kurt’s body as Sebastian’s palm came down in a sharp slap to the head of his cock. He cried out as his eyes flew open and found Sebastian’s so close, still twinkling merrily.

“I told you not to close your eyes,” Sebastian said. “Much as I love hurting your cock, that isn’t the point of this, is it?”

Caught between pain and pleasure, between Sebastian’s fist and his eyes and his dangerous, alluring words, Kurt shook his head.

“That’s right. Now do as I say. You only have one choice to make here. What do you want, bitch?”

What did he want? For once Kurt actually knew the answer to that question. He wanted all the things Sebastian had said. He wanted the damned cage. He longed for Sebastian’s control. He craved the state of intense arousal and frustration that Sebastian could keep him in for days and weeks and months at a time. He wanted an end to this crazy ride of choice and release. He wanted the peace he found at the heart of the moment that desperation sent him to the floor to worship at his master’s feet. And he wanted to close his fucking eyes, hide from the green gaze that saw everything, and enjoy the dizzy pleasure Sebastian was conjuring for as long as he could, before it all got to be too much and he had to . . .

“No, please . . .” It escaped before Kurt could stop it, but it was too late. Sebastian’s hand was gone. Kurt’s hips thrust up in a reflexive attempt to push himself over an edge he could never reach but his hands stayed still on the bed, clenching at the duvet as a pathetic dribble bubbled out and slid down his pulsing shaft.

Sebastian was grinning like the proverbial canary-eating cat. “Oh how I love it when you beg,” he said. “Do it again.”

Kurt’s ass dropped back onto the bed, defeated. “Please,” he gasped, meaning an entirely different thing this time.

Sebastian’s smile softened. “Soon.”


	25. Lock and Key

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay bitches! (And, like Sebastian, I mean that in the best possible way.) As the (possibly second) slowest author in this fandom I am sticking to form and finally writing Kurt and Sebastian's Christmas Eve in the heart of a sweltering, climate-change summer. Because me. I just assume most of you are used to it by now. I ADORE anyone who's still following this. It's always been my pledge that I will never leave a story unfinished and I stick to that. I'm slow, but I always get there. Just not in time frames other people would call reasonable.
> 
> Now I've got a Klaine to write and then I'm back to tackle Sure of You! <33

On Christmas Eve, Sebastian fucked Kurt twice.

The first time was while Kurt was kneading dough for the dinner rolls. Sebastian had been merciful – “In the spirit of giving,” he’d said – and allowed Kurt to spend the day cooking their lavish meal unencumbered by any kind of bondage or torture devices, besides his cock cage of course. Kurt wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Twenty-four days ago he would have welcomed a day “off” from the challenges of life serving Sebastian. But it had been a very confusing month, physically as well as emotionally. Kurt had to admit, if only in the quietest internal whisper, that he was starting to crave a return to Sebastian’s customary strict and merciless control.

So he was working out his mixed feelings on the gluten when an unexpected hand in the middle of his back pushed him down over the bread board and a hard cock slid inside his ass without so much as a by your leave. Sebastian hadn’t even bothered to undress – soft cotton brushed against Kurt’s ass as Sebastian bottomed out. A month ago Kurt would have had to bite back at least a token protest at being so unceremoniously breached but the only sound he could summon now was a low, grateful moan. Sebastian fucked hard, fast, and Kurt’s fingers squeezed the dough, his biceps straining under Sebastian’s weight to keep himself from face-planting in the soft mass. His back arched and his ass pushed back against the onslaught in naked offering. There wasn’t enough lube, but there wasn’t _not_ enough either. It hurt, but Kurt’s discomfort was as irrelevant as it was perfect.

It was over much too quickly. Kurt gasped, whined, as Sebastian, after no more than twenty violent thrusts, stilled and spilled into his body. Then his cock slid away, a plug speared Kurt’s ass, and Sebastian was gone back to the bedroom. He hadn’t spoken. He hadn’t made a sound. He hadn’t so much as breathed hard. Kurt hung trembling over the dough, used and abandoned, burning, and as close to right as he’d felt since November.

The second time came a few hours later. Kurt was just sliding the roast into the oven when he felt Sebastian’s presence over his shoulder.

“Follow me,” Sebastian commanded.

Kurt trailed him to the bedroom where Sebastian had muted some sports panel show on the television.

“Apron off.”

The moment the garment cleared Kurt’s head Sebastian grabbed him. The apron fell from his fingers as he was flung over the bed, one heavy hand pressing his chest into the comforter while the other forced his legs apart and slid the plug from his ass. He was filled in one hard shove, like before, but that was where the similarity ended. This time Sebastian was in no hurry. He held himself still, buried deep in Kurt’s heat, for what felt like forever, until the ache in Kurt’s body forced his back to flex in silent pleading.

“Be still!” Sebastian commanded with a slap to Kurt’s ass that felt almost as good as his cock finally sliding out long and slow then pushing back in, millimeter by tiny millimeter.

It was slipperier this time, and glorious, and Kurt could feel Sebastian leaning this way and that, sliding into him from a different angle on each thrust, indulging himself in Kurt’s body like it was his own private playground. Which it was. Kurt surrendered to it, boneless under Sebastian. He even started to float a little while Sebastian pushed and teased and occasionally slid over Kurt’s prostate, sending a shudder up his body. When he came this time Sebastian slowly fucked himself through it then stayed, seated deep. Kurt wanted to lay in just that spot for the rest of his life, pressed to the bed, drifting, with Sebastian’s cock slowly shrinking inside him.

Then a shrill noise broke the stillness in Kurt’s head and Sebastian slid himself out, the plug in, and smacked his ass hard once again.

“Sounds like you have a timer going off.”

Fortunately it was just the bread rising. If it had been anything else it would have burned by the time Kurt managed to make himself stand up, pick up his apron, and remember what the fuck he’d been doing before Sebastian summoned him. Sebastian settled on the bed and turned the sound back on the sports panel, ignoring Kurt now that he was done with him.

That shouldn’t have been as hot as Kurt’s body found it.

Hours later, amidst the remains of Kurt’s spectacular meal, Sebastian flashed his trademark feral grin at Kurt over the rim of his glass of wine.

“Last night of your Advent.”

Kurt poked at his slice of bûche de noël and didn’t speak.

“If I ask you a question, will you give me an honest answer?”

“I always do,” Kurt said.

“Okay. If I were to let you decide what we do tonight, anything you want, what would you ask for?”

Kurt put his fork down and watched Sebastian watch him. Green eyes sparkled and Kurt sighed and tried to decide what answer would cause him the least pain.

“Don’t do that,” Sebastian said.

“What?”

“I can hear you thinking from here. Stop trying to figure out what you think I want to hear. I’ve already decided what we’re doing tonight and it’s not changing, no matter what you tell me.”

“Then why ask me?”

Sebastian put his glass down and leaned over the table. “Because I want to know. It’s been a bit of a month for you. I honestly want to know what you’d choose, if you could. Which you can’t. Think of it as a . . . debriefing.”

Kurt made a face at him.

“I just want to know what’s in your head. As the man responsible for keeping you sexually satisfied.”

“Or not?” Kurt asked.

“Which for you, _is_ ,” Sebastian countered.

“Okay fine,” Kurt capitulated. “If I could have anything tonight . . . honestly? I’d want to sit on the sofa with you and watch the sappiest Christmas movie we can find on Netflix, and . . .”

“And?”

“Cuddle.” Kurt threw it out like a challenge. “And maybe make out at some point, until it gets too much for me and I beg you to fuck me.”

“Again?” Sebastian asked, incredulous.

“That surprises you?”

“And during all of this Christmas romance your cock would be . . .?”

“Where it belongs,” Kurt said quietly.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at him.

“Locked up, okay? In the cage. Out of the way.”

Grinning like the cat that swallowed the canary, Sebastian stood and held a hand out to Kurt.

“I have to clean up,” Kurt protested.

“I’ll do it. Later. My Christmas present to you.”

“I can’t relax with a mess . . .”

Sebastian grabbed Kurt’s hand and pulled him up out of his chair and flush against his body. “If I can’t make you forget about all this, I’m definitely not doing my job right. Come open your Advent Calendar. That’s an order.”

“Yes, Sir,” Kurt breathed.

“Right answer.”

Kurt was steered into the living room, where the Advent Calendar sat on the coffee table. All the doors were open save one. Sebastian pushed him down to kneel at coffee-table level. “Go on and open it.”

Kurt obeyed. Inside he found not one tiny charm, but two. A filigreed gold padlock, and a beautiful miniature key studded with a crystal as green as Sebastian’s eyes.

He laid them carefully on his palm then stood and held them out to Sebastian. “What do they mean?”

Sebastian took the charms from Kurt’s hand. “You’re never going to believe me, but I swear tonight, I planned to do the exact things you asked for. Except,” he dangled the key from his fingers, “I’m going to unlock your cock, tease the everloving fuck out of it while we do those other things,” he palmed the key and held up the lock, “then shove it back in the cage and lock it up until I decide it’s desperate enough to deserve a little freedom. I’m thinking at least six weeks. How does that sound?”

Staring at Sebastian, Sebastian who stood so close, swinging the little lock, who managed to still look hungry after that amazing meal, after fucking Kurt, _twice_ , pinned by those eyes who saw every dark corner of his soul, it didn’t even occur to Kurt to speak anything but the truth.

“It sounds perfect.”

* * * * *

Kurt cried, later, after cuddling, after kissing, after riding Sebastian on the big couch while George Bailey hollered “ _Merry Christmas!”_ on the TV behind him and Sebastian stroked and teased his cock until it fountained precome and danced like a manic dervish. After Sebastian laid him out and pressed ice to his dick and whispered “You’re so fucking hot like this,” in his ear as he gasped and writhed. After the real lock clicked shut for the last time in a very long time and Sebastian tucked the real key in the drawer where they kept their contract, out of sight, out of mind. Kurt cried, and while he couldn’t quite stretch his honesty to actually telling Sebastian they were tears of relief, he was pretty sure from the way Sebastian stroked his cheek and kissed him and murmured his own _“Merry Christmas, bitch,”_ that Sebastian knew.


End file.
